Why Does A Bad Penny Always Turn Up?
by StrigoiVii
Summary: Sequel to Desperately Seeking Sammy. Jay is back, and she's got her sights set on a new prize...Dean. Sick!Dean for a little while, then a whole lot of angst for both boys later.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It had been a few long weeks that had stretched into a couple of very painful months since she had ripped Sam's still-broken heart out, threw it on the ground and danced naked all over it, then shoved it back at him bleeding and crushed with a wink and a smile, all the while claiming she'd done it out of sheer love for him before he'd gone ahead and put a bullet into her evil, ruthless chest and ended her life for what she had done; and not just to him. Every day that went by he thought about it, about her, and no matter what he did, he couldn't push what she'd done to him out of his mind. She had taken every precious memory he'd had of his beloved Jessica and twisted them all into something horrific. Every time he thought of Jess, he thought of her, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't bring back any thoughts that weren't tainted or tarnished, until they finally ended up causing nothing but anguish and pain, leaving him empty and hollow inside.

Her actions had been cold, calculated, and cruel, but what she did to him had been nothing compared to what she had done to Dean. No, that was a whole new level of torture he'd never seen before, from man and beast alike, and his agony was nothing next to his brother's; not by a long shot. So, on the days that he could actually wake up in the morning with his ability to forget what she'd done working like a blessed charm, he still had Dean's constant pain to dismantle it and woefully remind him.

Some of Dean's days lately had been good ones, and the ones that weren't he did his best to fake for Sam's benefit that they were. Every once in a while though, dark clouds would come rolling in and hover over him, enveloping him deep inside and forcing him to ride them out until they mercifully blew themselves by. Sometimes it would hit him like a mild thunderstorm, nothing too serious that a day of good sleep wouldn't do the trick for; but more often than not it would come raging in like a category five hurricane threatening to rip apart every fiber of his being, leaving him a decimated mess for days at a time. Dean would never actually say anything outright to his brother, nor would he ever complain, but by now Sam could always tell when a another tempest was looming on the horizon, and he could tell just how severe it would be too, just by his brother's actions before it came. Dean would just get a weird, blank look in his eye, and say one thing, and one thing only to him.

"Do you think you could drive for a while Sammy?" Was all he would have to ask, and the keys would be launched into the air before Sam could answer him. It wasn't a question he could say no to, and it was always his first clue. What Dean did next though would silently tell him what they were in store for over the days to come. Sam would hold his breath and watch his brother walk to the passenger side of the Impala, then he'd let it out when Dean decided which door he would choose to open. On the occasions he would climb into the front seat, close his eyes and just rest his head against the cool glass of the window, Sam would let that held breath out with an audible sigh of relief, knowing it wouldn't be that bad this time. But there were the times when Dean would reach for the back door, and the sigh wasn't one of relief but one of anxious dread instead. When he heard "I think I'm gonna lay down in the back while you drive, ok?" as he climbed in and relegated himself to the rear and out of Sam's sight, his heart would sink to his stomach, his stomach would drop to the floor, and he knew he'd only be driving to the nearest town with a motel that didn't come complete with complimentary six-legged pets, and that's where they'd stay for the next few days until it was thankfully over enough for them to move on.

Sam had heard every word when the doctor told him these episodes were likely to happen over the next few months, but the first week or so after Dean's release had been smooth as silk, aside from all the sleeping he had done, and he honestly thought his brother had finally dodged at least one of the bullets that had been aimed directly at him throughout the whole ordeal after being repeatedly hit point blank by all the rest of them. He had thought it strange though when Dean asked him to drive the roughly 375 miles to Indiana from Rockford after their father's call while he slept through the first half of the trip, then buried his face in a map for the rest and made one annoying comment after another about the genius of their absentee father, the father that they hadn't heard from in months that had finally had called; not to make sure Dean was still alive or ok after the dozens of messages Sam had left him over the last couple of weeks; not to ask for their help on his current plight; or to just tell them that 'yeah, I'm still here', but to order them to stay away, to stay out of the fight Sam felt he had every right to be a part of, then sent them off on another ridiculous job to obviously keep them out of his hair while he hunted down the very thing that had put them all in this position in the first place.

He'd been fuming since Dean had stripped him of the phone and finished the call himself; first at his father for denying them any role in the fight to come, then at Dean, who mindlessly dropped like the good son he thought he should be into soldier mode at the mere sound of their father's voice, taking down the orders and not once questioning how or why. He just climbed from his bed and started packing, telling Sam to do the same and blindly following his father's direction. Sam was so mad that when Dean told him to drive he was almost grateful, hoping that being behind the wheel would help him blow off some steam, which it actually had. Between the soothing rumble of the engine and the slow and the rhythmic breathing coming from his brother, he did find some slight clarity seeping into his head… until Dean woke up, that is.

Once he was awake, he'd dragged out a map and the notes he'd made when he was on the phone, and started putting their father on a pedestal Sam felt he had no right to even polish the base of let alone stand atop of. The more Dean praised the man, the angrier Sam got again, until he just couldn't listen to another word coming from his brother's mouth anymore. Sam pulled the car over and basically told Dean that come hell or high water, he was going to find their dad, which Dean strongly disagreed with, and like the last couple of weeks had never happened, Sam grabbed his gear and left Dean behind and alone to fend for himself, again.

He didn't know for sure what made him go back. Maybe it was something Meg said, or something she didn't say, or the fact that Dean wouldn't or couldn't answer his calls, but whatever it was, he knew something was wrong, very wrong. He'd been very right too, finding his brother tied to a tree in the cold night air for only god knew how long with his head split open, waiting to be the next scarecrow in the pagan apple orchard. He vowed to himself at that very minute that he would never do that again, he would never leave his brother behind. He'd always have his back. 

They dropped Emily off at the bus station and thankfully headed out of town with no real destination in sight yet, driving in total silence the entire time. By the strange look on Dean's face, Sam didn't want to push his luck anymore then he had already by engaging his brother in any kind of conversation, and he just figured Dean wasn't in a very talkative mood, which he never was to begin with anymore anyway. They'd driven all of about two hours when Dean pulled into the first truck stop he'd seen, not even bothering to turn off the car as he quickly made a beeline to the bathroom, leaving Sam to gas the car up himself and wait.

Five minutes turned into ten, ten turned into fifteen, and Sam was starting to get a little freaked out by Dean's overly long absence. Then he heard the commotion coming from inside, and his stomach knotted and dropped. He just knew it was Dean. He'd damn near sprinted from the car when he'd heard someone yelling something about a guy passed out on the bathroom floor, and Sam pretty much figured it could only be one person. He ignored everyone he passed that stood around doing nothing but gawk as he rushed through the door, and sure enough, there was Dean with his arms wrapped around the toilet and his face plastered to the seat, covered in sweat and breathing hard and heavy.

Sam forced himself into the tiny stall that was really only built for one, not really wanting to think about the fact that his brother's face was nearly fused to the nasty seat that probably had more deadly bacteria living on it than the dead, rotting carcass of some sorry piece of road kill left on the shoulder for the crows and other scavengers to have at. To his surprise, Dean had answered him when he called his name, albeit barely loud enough for anyone but Sam to even hear. He wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and tried lifting him off the floor, and that was no easy task now that Dean was nothing but dead weight and the walls were barely three feet apart. After awkwardly struggling for some time to get his brother on his feet, he'd managed to bring him up vertically enough to drag him from the cramped confines as the audience behind him watched transfixed like they were staring at some train wreck they just couldn't turn away from.

"Is he ok?" Someone finally broke the deathly silence. Human curiosity always won out in the end.

"Yeah, he's fine. He's just got the flu or something," Sam responded to the faceless inquisitor as he wrapped one of Dean's arms around his shoulder and tried shielding him from the numerous sets of staring eyes. Sam could only assume the person posing the question was the same good Samaritan that grabbed Dean's other arm and threw it over his own shoulder when he saw the sick man couldn't even get his feet under him, and together they got Dean back out to the waiting Impala with relative ease.

"I think you better drive for a while Sammy," he whispered into his brother's ear as Sam made an attempt to open the passenger's door, causing Dean to just shake his head in protest. "Back seat Sam… I need to lie down."

Sam did his best to make Dean as comfortable in the back as he could, thanked the man that had so graciously helped him carry his brother's limp, lifeless body back to the car, climbed behind the wheel and took off down the highway, keeping his eyes peeled for the first motel he could find. He bypassed two or three rather shady looking places that would have been perfectly acceptable to Dean, had he been the one driving, and opted for something a little more upper end, at least upper end to Winchesters, having no idea just how long they'd be staying.

'_Having no idea how long they'd be staying_' ended up being five very long, very nerve-racking days with Sam almost throwing his brother in the car and carting him to the nearest emergency room on more than one very scary occasion. He'd opted on calling Olivia instead when things started getting a little harrier than he thought they should be, and she welcomed the call. Sam rambled off one ailment after another in their order of appearance, starting with the vomiting, profuse sweating and eventual passing out in the bathroom to the intense stomach cramps that never seemed to let up by the time they'd made it to a motel and continued well after they'd gotten there, accompanied by the migraine, fever, and nearly unquenchable thirst that finally brought up the rear. The more water he drank, the more water he'd throw right back up until he'd decided being thirsty was better and stopped drinking altogether. Dean hadn't eaten in nearly three days either, yet he continued heaving uncontrollably, and Sam was starting to get really scared Dean would dehydrate. Olivia pretty much told him that there was really nothing he could do but ride the waves, told him she'd call in a prescription to hopefully stop the vomiting, but other than that, he'd just have to keep him comfortable and wait.

By morning of the next day, Dean's body had calmed, and the storm seemed to have passed. He'd settled into an eerie quiet and did nothing but sleep for nearly a day now that he wasn't either heaving or curled up groaning in pain. Sam had only seen his brother like that once before, the day her poison had nearly killed him, and prayed to god he would never have to see it again. Nearly another full day later, Dean seemed perfectly content to leave, pretending nothing had ever happened when he noticed Sam couldn't even look him in the eye.

They'd had a couple of simple jobs here and there, none of which proved to be very eventful, until they'd found themselves in some tiny shithole town in Michigan, searching for what they had been led to believe was a coven of witches that turned out to be nothing but a teenage hoax. Three days they'd wasted in that rat's nest, and Dean was way beyond pissed. Way beyond pissed enough to go out to the nearest bar and get rip-roaring lit on a fifth of Jack and stuffed on greasy bacon cheeseburgers, both of which he was told he shouldn't have yet.

By early the next morning, he'd wished he'd listened to that good advice. He'd been able to hide it from Sam for nearly the entire day by passing it off as a simple hangover, but by late evening it dropped on him like a ton of bricks and buried him. If Sam had thought the first episode was bad, there were no words to describe what was happening now, and this time he did drag Dean to the local urgent care when he did dehydrate to a dangerous level. Dean had wanted nothing more than leave that god-forsaken town and move on, but his stupidity earned him a full extra week in the little town he wanted nothing more to do with. '_Live and learn,' he'd_ thought when it was finally over, and he promised himself he wouldn't do that again anytime soon.

Life had gone by pretty smoothly after that, now that Dean had learned his lesson the hard way. He'd been feeling pretty good for a while after the last bomb dropped, until he'd found himself being dragged half dead to Nebraska by Sam. Half dead because Sam had left him alone in that basement with a rawhead, and while standing in a pool of water when he'd electrocuted not only it but himself as well, had pretty much been given a death sentence, all because he hadn't had Dean's back…again. Sure, this time it really hadn't been Sam's fault, but each and every time something happened to Dean that could have been prevented, Sam always let the guilt get the better of him. At this point, he just couldn't help it anymore, especially when the doctor had told him that his heart was damaged beyond repair and that that Dean would die, it was just a matter of time. 

The good Reverend Roy Le Grange had unwittingly taken care of that. Dean was as good as new when he'd laid his hands on him, not knowing that his wife was sending a reaper to do his bidding for him. Dean had been cured, but at the expense of another innocent person, and he couldn't live with that, and intended on doing something about it. Sam had stopped Sue Ann before the reaper could kill Dean in exchange for Layla, but the damage had been done. They packed their gear and made to leave town after Dean had said his goodbyes to the ill-fated woman, feeling not only the guilt for dooming her to death, but also feeling full well what was coming to plague him again, but not wanting to spend another minute in Nebraska that he didn't need to. They left in silence and drove in the silence that they seemed to always settle into until they were well out of the state that Dean could go the rest of his life without ever stepping foot into again. 

Dean had done well, making it all the way to nightfall before finally needing to stop, but at least he was in Iowa now, and that's all that mattered to him at the moment. He had pulled into the first gas station he'd seen once he was across the border, taken a moment to remove the cap and shoved the nozzle into the gas tank, then took off for the bathroom without saying one word, leaving Sam sitting in the car with his eyebrows raised and his mouth hanging open. Sam gave Dean all the time it took for the pump to click itself off before placing it back in the cradle and coming after him; stopping at the cashier to pay before heading to the back where the bathrooms were located. He watched dismayed as his brother staggered out through the heavy bathroom door, his face pale and covered in sweat and his hands uncontrollably shaking.

"I think you better drive Sam," he mumbled as he breezed by him, only stopping long enough to give his brother the order before moving on.

He followed right behind Dean with his eyes trained on the backs of his feet, unable to watch as his brother steadied himself against the wall next to him while he made his way slowly to the door, positive his Dean would either fall forward or backwards at any second. He wanted to offer some sort of assistance to him to get him back to the car, but by the body language Dean was giving off, Sam knew he didn't want to be coddled at the moment. Dean just continued his delicate walk unhampered to the car, not even hesitating to climb into the back and resting his face against the cool, familiar smelling leather as he waited for Sam to close the door behind him.

He was nearly asleep by the time he'd heard the door slam shut, then felt the weight of his brother climb into the passenger seat before the engine turned over, but the sudden movement brought him back to some form of consciousness and made him hang his face over the seat, thankful the small trashcan Sam had put back there 'in case of emergencies' was in it's appointed place, pretty sure he was going to need it in the very near future. Had Dean been himself and had Sam not been preoccupied with worrying about him every second of every day over the last couple months, they both probably would have noticed the little, black car that had followed them from the station out onto the deserted highway. The same little, black car that was always following them, they were just too much in a world of their own notice.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She couldn't get him out of her head. That killer smile that so rarely graced his face, but could melt entire icebergs when he would actually let it show; or that confident swagger in his walk that occasionally faltered and became a painful gait instead, mostly because of her and going noticed to anyone that cared to look but herself and Sam; or that occasional twinkle that lit up his mesmerizing green eyes that were somehow haunted and tortured by something painful buried deep behind them that he kept hidden from everyone's view. She hadn't seen it in him before, but she did now. He was like a mystery to her that she desperately needed to unravel, and the more she watched him, the more the need to figure out what made him tick consumed her until it was all she could think about, day and night. His sheer will to live was intoxicating to her, and she needed him like a connoisseur needed a fine, red wine. She'd thrown him to the wolves, but he'd come out smelling like the sweet rose she now thought him to be, perfectly unblemished by even the tiniest of thorns. She promised herself she'd have him someday, one way or another.

She thought she had gotten everything she'd been dreaming of since following Sam from Stanford when he had finally called her on that last day they were together, his heart obviously crushed as he told her that Dean was dead and begging her to come and get him, to be with him, to help him get through it. She knew Sam had unwittingly given his precious brother enough arsenic to kill a Clydesdale, she'd made sure of it, and wasn't the least bit surprised that Dean had actually died from it, and she hoped it had been in excruciating agony when he finally had. She had been surprised at how long it had taken though. Gauging the time between her escape from the motel room as she masqueraded as their father and Sam's heartbroken call to her , she couldn't believe he'd lingered as long as he had, considering she'd left him throwing up more blood than she thought a body could actually lose without going into shock and shutting itself down permanently. She smiled to herself as she wondered if the official cause of death had been the arsenic poisoning itself, or if he'd painfully bled to death internally and choked on his own blood as his body tried purging it from his stomach when it could no longer hold it in anymore. Either way, she'd been happy to finally be rid of him and planned on finally having Sam all to herself. Yes, everything was finally final.

Sam had been the smart one this time though, smarter than her at least, toying with her as he pretended to be emotionally destroyed by his brother's apparent death, only to pull the rug out from under her in the end by calling her bluff. He had figured out everything somehow, but by the time it had dawned on her that he knew, it had been far too late to turn back. The only way he could have possibly known anything was by Dean telling him before his miserable existence had ended, and as she lay on the floor; unable to move and staring down the barrel of Sam's gun, she now wished she'd just let him die when he'd started suffocating from the infection raging through his body that had shut his throat off to all the air that it needed from outside. That physical torment though had been all Dean's doing, she had had nothing to do with it, but she had enjoyed watching it. Who would have thought tonsils were such a problem these days?

Sam's bullet had embedded itself in her heart the moment he'd pulled the trigger, but she'd thought nothing of it. She knew his weapon was useless and couldn't do any more damage than make her bleed. She thought she'd been smart not to throw the silver jewels she'd taken from Sam's gun as he'd slept through the nightmare she'd caused back at him, knowing his concern for Dean would leave that little detail unnoticed to his eye. No, she still had those in her possession, and wasn't letting them go for anything. What she wasn't expecting though was the bullet that he had so heartlessly shot at her that had lodged itself in her heart would prevent her from healing the gaping hole it had left until it had been removed, and there was nothing she could do but appear dead while Sam wrapped her in sheets and stuffed her in the back of her stolen vehicle for the police to find later. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't do anything but act like the corpse everyone thought her to be until the coroner had started his autopsy.

He'd dug the bullet out first since the police were anxious to try matching it to a weapon of some kind, but since the cause of death was obvious to all, they'd put her on the bottom of the list to dissect until the other medical mysteries in the morgue had been figured out first. They'd wheeled her off to the side for later use, and she just bided her time until the room had gone quiet and dark.

Once she thought the coast was clear, she climbed from the table and searched for some kind clothing to throw over her naked body, only to find none. Giving up on traditional apparel, she'd decided to take an alternate method of escape instead and took the form of a rather large German Sheppard before sneaking out into the hallway and happily approaching the guard sitting at the reception desk, who had stared perplexedly at the imposing animal strolling proudly down the hall, wagging its tail as it went. It wasn't the most comfortable form of beast she'd chosen, but if it got her out of the building with no questions asked, it would do.

"God damn K-9 guys gotta keep their eyes on their partners," he'd grumbled and noted the time, just in case someone came looking for the pooch later.

Safely out of the building, she had found her way across town and back to the hospital she knew Sam would be fixed to, assuming Dean was still alive, that is. He'd still been breathing when Sam had thought he'd ended her life, at least that's what Sam had told her before pulling the trigger, but that had been days ago, and anything could have happened since then. Dean hadn't shown up in the morgue alongside her during her brief stay, and that had to be a sign in itself that he continued to exist.

Stealthily making her way through the parking lot, she knew she was in exactly the right place when she saw the monstrous black beast Dean called a car sitting alone in one of the furthest spaces, and she shuddered when she brushed her body against it. The car felt somewhat electric against her temporary canine fur, and she thought for a moment she liked the feel the obvious extension of Dean gave off. Spying a lone nurse at the darkest, farthest part of the lot and apparently leaving for the evening, she followed her, taking her form and dispatching of her body into her trunk quickly and cleanly after stealing her clothes and donning them to make damn sure she fit in with the rest of the staff. She turned around and strolled right back inside, following the faint scent of Sam wafting through the air. He had passed by not long before, and it left a trail for her to follow like breadcrumbs, leading her up to the ICU area.

She'd crept down the hall silently, her presence unnoticed by the other nurses that were all busy doing something else, and followed the scent Sam left behind, its strength increasing with each step she took forward. Stopping just outside the door when she'd heard his voice, Dean's voice, she listened carefully to what was going on inside.

"Listen Sam, you said your piece, now I want to say mine, and when I do, it's over, I mean OVER," she'd heard him begin, and listened intently to every word he'd said thereafter. He didn't blame Sam, not for any of it, even though it had been mostly because of Sam, well, and her, that he was in the condition he was in. She could smell how sick he still was, but she noticed something else in the scent he gave off. It was a fierce determination to live, and somehow listening to him not only take the blame for just about everything that had happened to him, but telling Sam he was still alive because of him made her feel so remorseful she could barely stand it. "I'm alive because of you, not in spite of you, so don't ever forget that," he'd continued, and in that instant she felt sheer admiration for the man she'd tried so hard to eliminate.

They'd moved him to another room once he was finally conscious again and well on his way to recovery, which made it much easier for her to sneak in and out, considering they'd paired him with a near comatose man that had no clue she was even there. She'd appeared to be visiting her incoherent father when Sam was there, but she'd turn her attention the other way when he wasn't, watching Dean as he would lay in dreamless sleep and relishing in his mere presence. Every day that went by she could feel something inside her telling her what she didn't want to hear, until she could ignore it no longer.

She followed them the day he was released to their motel, and camped out in the parking lot to watch their every move. It broke her heart to see Dean still in pain, though he hid it well from his brother and the rest of the world. Somehow, she could feel it, she knew it was there. She had waited all day for a glimpse of him, and had followed Dean that night when he had left without Sam, curious as to where he would be going by himself so soon after everything that had happened. She had been shocked and disgusted to see where he had ended up, watching him in the arms of another woman for what ended up being a very long night of memories she wished she could burn from out of her brain as her blood boiled, and had she been able to, she would have broken that bitch doctor's neck once Dean was gone for even touching what she thought to be hers, but she decided it better to let it go, she may need her in the future for something. It really didn't matter what he had done with her, she knew Dean didn't love her, that's what was important, but he would love her soon, she'd make sure of it, and in the end, his arms would be around her instead.

She followed them everywhere they went, always far enough behind to go unnoticed, but close enough to see and feel that Dean still suffered the after effects of what she'd done to him on a daily basis and it started to make her sick. Sure, there would be times when he was his usual charming self, but they were few and far between, and it broke her heart to see what she had done to him.

Their rushed exodus out of their motel room in the middle of the night had surprised her when it happened, knowing Dean really was in no condition to be going on any extended road trips just yet, but she took off right behind them anyway as they sped off into the night, their destination known only to them. Much to her surprise, they had pulled over a few hours after their trip had began, and after a very heated argument, Sam went one way and Dean went another. She could feel the tension coming from both men, and knew that Sam had no intentions of turning back as Dean went in the opposite direction, and she took this as a golden opportunity to make a move.

Instead of chasing after Dean, she had decided to follow Sam instead, knowing full well she would be able to find the object of her undying affection eventually, and intended on getting rid of him now that she had seen the light. Sure, she did still have some feelings for him, but he had ruthlessly tried to kill her, so that made everything fair in her book. Abandoning her car for her feet instead, she kept pace with Sam until morning and had been ready to move in for the kill as she watched him hitchhiking down the long, relatively deserted stretch of highway, but something stopped her. It was an evil she had felt before, almost identical to the evil she had felt the night of the fire that had killed Sam's beloved Jessica, only slightly different, and it knew she was there following him. She backed off, the silent warning it sent her telling her that Sam was not to be touched, not ever. They didn't care what she had done or what she still planned to do to Dean, but Sam was off limits. She merely turned around and retreated back the way she had came, knowing full well that Sam was in the hands of a demon now, and valuing her own life more, heeded the warning it had sent her.

She'd finally made it back to the car she had left on the side of the road, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was still there and not sitting in some impound garage collecting dust instead of taking her on her merry way to find Dean again. That demon in the form of the cute blonde girl would keep Sam occupied enough for her to take what she wanted, now that the younger brother had turned his back on the older brother he swore under his breath he would never leave again. By the time she had finally caught up to Dean, he was in a world of hurt and a boatload of trouble though, and somehow Sam had made a triumphant return to his side and saved the day.

They dumped that little, blonde damsel in distress that had taken such a liking to Dean in that apple orchard from hell onto a bus to somewhere far away and climbed into the car she had come to identify with as not just a car but a part of Dean's spirit after Sam's heartfelt confession and apology, and made their way out of town. She knew what was going to happen to him even before he did, but Dean had no clue what was coming, and it had blindsided him when it struck as hard and as fast as it did, making him pull over the first chance he got once his stomach started to protest the simple act of him breathing.

Her heart broke all over again when she had seen him lying on that dirty truck-stop bathroom floor she had followed them to just outside another small town in Indiana with his arms wrapped tightly around the toilet as he held on for dear life, too sick to even pick his head up off the seat, and she knew she had to help him somehow. Sam had been right there though, and she couldn't even get close enough to him to touch him, so she just watched as she always did from afar as Sam tried as gently as possible to get him in the car and took off at the speed of light to the nearest clean motel, where they ended up staying for days. She'd taken the room right next to theirs and listened to everything that went on inside. She cringed at every moan of discomfort she heard that had eventually elevated into downright cries of pain, each and every one a brutal reminder of her own stupidity.

After much verbal debating with himself whether or not he should take Dean to the hospital when his agony seemed to be getting the better of him, he had decided on making a simple phone call instead, and in seconds had that slut doctor on the phone. What she could actually hear coming from inside the room was nothing compared to what she had just heard Sam relay through the phone, and she was shocked to hear the extent of Dean's anguish. Sam had listened carefully to what she had told him, closed his phone, then run from the room like a bat out of hell after whispering to Dean he would be right back and prayed his brother had actually heard him.

She watched Sam from the window as he climbed into the car and turned the engine over, then peeled out of the parking lot; leaving streaks of rubber behind and when she could no longer hear the rumble in the distance, she knew he was really gone. She slipped out of her own room and quietly crept into theirs; carefully examining her surroundings to make sure she had gone in sight unseen. Silently closing the door behind her, she leaned against the barrier to the outside world she'd just shut and saw firsthand what was going on behind that closed door.

Dean was laying on his side with his face turned in her direction, his eyes pinched shut tight with his body curled up in a tight ball. Either Sam had left him uncovered, or he had just kicked the blankets off himself as he shivered and sweat all at the same time, and she honestly thought he had no idea what was going on outside his own mind. She tiptoed even further into the room as silently as possible and snaked her way around the bed to the opposite side, knowing that Dean's hunter instincts could never be discounted, no matter what condition he was in, and edged up to him carefully. The scars on his back were still an angry, red color, but were slowly starting to fade with the passing of time. Yet another reminder of the tortures they had forced him to live through stared her in the face, and she sat next to him to run a finger along the most prominent ones, wanting to feel them for herself.

He didn't stir as she pressed her weight down on the mattress next to him, and she was confident her presence had gone unnoticed. She leaned into him closely and brushed the wet hair from his hot forehead that was bathed in sweat before gently resting her open hand on his head, needing to fully feel his pain.

"Sam…" he murmured, and for a second it frightened her that he had spoke.

"Shhh, just rest. Tomorrow you'll feel better," she whispered into his ear, and as if her words were like drugs, his body did start to relax a bit. Wanting nothing more than to curl up next to him and care for him, she pulled the comforter back up to cover his still shaking form instead before sneaking back out of the room and returning to her own, not wanting to be there when Sam got anywhere near the motel again.

She waited and listened for two more days as Dean stilled, then made what amounted to nothing less than a miraculous recovery, and as if nothing was ever wrong with him, wanted to leave. One town after another they passed through, some stays uneventful, some not, but all were pretty mundane. That was until she had followed them to Michigan.

She had kept her distance in that little town, knowing that what they thought they were looking for wasn't there and that they were in no real danger from anything, except from the horny local bleach-blondes that wore too much make-up and not enough clothes that somehow always found a way to shimmy up to Dean's side if they even remotely thought they had a snowballs chance in hell of scoring with the brooding stranger that had just breezed into town. Many tried that night in the bar, when he'd gotten so drunk he couldn't stand, and Sam had carried him out to the car in a not so gentle manner this time, dropping him in the passenger seat and driving his alcohol-riddled, half passed out body back to their room and dropping him onto his bed so he could sleep it off.

It would take him a week to sleep that hangover off, since it had progressed throughout the day to more than a just a hangover, and when Sam had been unable to stop him from dehydrating after the fourth day, he did have to take him to the local hospital this time. She had followed them there and decided she wanted to be near him, knowing she could help him in some small way with her touch alone. She hadn't needed to kill anyone this time, she just borrowed the form of a 'sleeping' nurse that had decided to rest her head in a storage closet for a little while after being hit from behind by something hard and heavy that she had never seen coming.

He had been in exceptionally bad shape this time, but somehow he was coherent enough to refuse being admitted. She held his hand tight in her own as she started the IV that would pump fluids back into him over the course of a few hours and finally gave him something that actually did stop his incessant vomiting, and when he could tolerate liquids in his stomach again, gave him some Vicodin for his pain before sending him on his way, at his own insistence. Sam hadn't been very happy about it, but there was really nothing he could do to change Dean's mind, so he just prepared to take him back to the motel once he was finally able to stand somewhat upright. She had stolen the little bottle of Zofran and a box of syringes, and before Sam could make a clean escape, she had given both to him along with the bottle of painkillers and carefully instructed him on how to use it. She hadn't really wanted to have any interaction with Sam just yet, but she didn't want Dean to get that bad off again, not if she could help it. They had gone back to the motel, and it became painfully apparent that Dean's act at the ER had taken all the wind from his sails. He dropped like a rock again, and after just a few hours, Sam was administering those drugs again, just as he had been instructed to now that Dean had regressed into an unconscious mess again. After another three nerve-racking days, two of which had been pretty bad, they were finally prepared to leave.

She continued her silent pursuit everywhere they went, never being able to get close enough to Dean to even speak to him, not when Sam was always hovering over him every time he coughed, sneezed, or even yawned. She had decided she needed to do something, and soon, because being so close to him, but never being able to touch him was starting to drive her mad. She had planned on approaching him when they came back to the motel from wherever it had been they were planning on going, not really paying attention to the plan of action they had formulated when she heard something about a rawhead. It sounded like routine work to them, and she would just wait until they came back before finally making a move. She had everything planned out, and all she needed to do now was set the events in motion. She had waited all night and most of the next day for them to come back, and when they finally did, it was Sam alone that had shown up.

She had heard Sam making phone calls to all of their father's contacts and describing what had happened to Dean, and her heart nearly broke in two when he had told one of the people on the other line that Dean was beyond repair, at least medically anyway. This time, she knew there was nothing she could to do to help him, and if Sam couldn't do something, Dean would be no more. She couldn't bear the thought of living one more day without him, but knew now that her dreams were never going to come true. She felt him coming before she heard the knocking on the door, and listened to every word the brothers said to each other. Sam had a plan, Sam could save Dean, and they were going to Nebraska.

She cried when she watched the Reverend Le Grange heal Dean, then watched in horror at everything that happened next, and when it was all said and done, she knew she couldn't stand the waiting anymore, especially after what had happened to Dean this time. She'd finally decided to make her move. As hard as Sam tried, he couldn't protect Dean, and she knew she could. She needed to take care of him, needed to be with him, and she needed it to be now, so as she made her plans, she followed them out of Nebraska and onto the road, anxious to see where Dean would take them next.

Iowa, that's where he headed, driving without stopping for anything but gas until he'd crossed the state line. He was getting weaker with every mile he drove, but he wasn't giving in, not until he absolutely had to. It did inevitably happen though, and he did have to finally pull over when he couldn't hold anything in anymore. He started the pump to fill the tank before stagger/sprinting inside to spill his guts in yet another gas station toilet. He tried his best to stop shaking when he was done, but it was no use, and he just knew it was going to be another week of misery he would need to see through to the end. She had watched from her own car as Sam rushed inside, and then followed Dean out. He hid himself in the back seat without saying a word, and Sam just slammed the door shut, got in, and drove.

She knew the next town was far, but not too far, and that there was nothing between here and there to stop at, and decided now was the time. She had been right behind them since they had left, but she knew Sam would never notice, he was too preoccupied with Dean at the moment to notice anything. She was startled at the sudden flash of brake lights as the Impala fishtailed slightly in front of her before grinding to a sudden halt, but she kept going as she watched Sam jump from the car in her rearview mirror, race to the back door, throw it open, and disappear behind it. It was perfect. She drove another five miles or so before driving off the road and into the darkness beyond, leaving the car far enough from the highway to be ignored, more than likely, until the end of time. She hiked her way back to the road and listened, waiting for the unmistakable roar to come at her. Yes, she was ready, and now was the time, and nothing was going to stop her. She stepped out onto the pavement when she saw the headlights approaching, and smiled wide at their sight, knowing she'd finally be with Dean tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sam drove like he had a sole purpose at the moment, like a man with only one mission in life that needed to be fulfilled at all costs. Keeping one eye on the road and one on the rear view mirror, he tried, to no avail, to catch a glimpse of the back seat, but darkness had fallen quickly once evening turned into night and it left the rear of the Impala bathed in a veil of black nothingness that his eyes couldn't penetrate. His ears would catch an occasional moan, groan, or hitched breath, but mostly there had been nothing since he'd heard Dean roll over in what he thought was an attempt at making himself comfortable, if that was even possible. Nothing but the cursed sound of the overly loud roar of the engine and his own heart pounding in his chest, pounding so hard that, yes, he could actually hear it. It was probably better that he couldn't catch a brief vision of the rear of the vehicle anyway, because had he seen what he just couldn't make out every time he tried, he most definitely would not have liked it. But then again, he never did.

What he would have seen was his brother lying deathly still with his arms crossed over his midsection in a somewhat sideways pose with his back nestled in the crook of the seat, his knees bent and his legs up as they rested against the backrest. Even in the pitch dark, his pale face glistened from the sheen of sweat that had formed across his brow since he'd laid his head down on the seat when an occasional stray ray of moonlight would shine through the side window and fall upon it. He seemed to be unable to make any sound, other than the ones that would involuntarily escape his lips when Sam would hit a pothole that would rock the entire car hard, the considerably rushed rate of speed he was driving at seeming to amplify the jarring ten-fold. It also seemed to be the only movement he could make, his body occasionally swaying when the back end of the car did as well.

His mind still worked though, at least for the moment, and he knew he was going to have to mention something to Sam later about the way he was treating his beloved baby. He nearly went airborne every time Sam hit one of the deeper craters hard, and the last thing he needed was his car in as bad a shape as he was. It would definitely have to be later though, because he just couldn't seem to make his mouth work right now. He was, in a sense, trapped in his own body, at least until his brain finally shut off too, which it eventually would when the migraine finally settled in. That would pretty much leave him deaf and blind for however long it decided to stay, and the only thing he'd really feel was the pain. Yep, for now he was pretty much at Sam's mercy.

The faster Sam drove, the farther he went, and yet it seemed like he was going nowhere fast. It had been nearly thirty miles, or maybe more, since they had taken the wheel and pulled away from the pump at that little gas station in the middle of nowhere just over the border, but there seemed to be no town in sight, not anytime soon anyway. No, all there seemed to be was just choppy blacktop that hadn't seen a road crew since the Great Depression and giant, monstrous trees that never seemed to end on both sides of him, and a whole lot of nothing else.

He cursed himself as he drove for not seeing this coming sooner, for ignoring the blank look he saw in his brother's stare as they barely said a word to one another while they drove out of Nebraska, wanting to believe Dean when he said he was fine, that he just had a lot of things on his mind. He knew that part of what his brother had told him had been the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. He knew Dean couldn't get the name Marshall Hall out of his head, because frankly, neither could he and the look on his brother's already haggard face when Layla had left just only managed to add to his emotional burden. It was that look on his brother's face that forced him to dismiss what he should have known by now was virtually inevitable. That reaper had almost killed him, and even though it hadn't had a chance to finish him off, it had physically taken a toll on him, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. That lack of admittance was what had gotten them to where they were right now.

Somehow finding a way to momentarily lose himself in his own thoughts, he hadn't actually noticed right away that Dean's steady breathing had started to become somewhat heavy and labored, but the second it registered in his head, his ears were tuned to every new sound his brother began to make. Even over the rumble of 427 Turbo Jet V8, he could hear the constant deep breaths and hard swallows Dean made come with more frequency, and they were always a sure fire indication of what was right behind them. He missed the whisper of his name the first time, it being said with barely enough volume for even the gods to hear it, but the second time it had been uttered, it was heard loud and clear.

"Sam…pull over…now…I can't…" he'd finally been able to cry out until his harsh coughing had cut him off, the distressed sound of his voice breaking the unbearable verbal silence and making Sam's heart race at nearly the speed of light when it registered in his head what his brother had just said and how he had said it.

Without even thinking, Sam jammed a foot hard on the brake pedal, bringing the car to an almost instantaneous, screeching halt that sent the back end fishtailing to and fro when one of the back tires connected with another enormous pothole at just about the most inopportune moment as he drove through what seemed to be a string of never ending road damage. He regained control quickly and finally brought the metal beast to a grinding halt before killing the engine and throwing his door open, only to have it nearly torn off by the little black car racing past them at its own ridiculous rate of speed. Slamming the front door closed, he quickly ripped the back door open and tried to figure out what the hell had been happening behind him that he hadn't been able to see.

"Out…I need out…" Dean begged wide-eyed as he reached for Sam but caught nothing but open air instead, and Sam could see his brother was dangerously close to full blown hyperventilation by now.

Taking a deep breath himself, Sam slid his arms under his brother's overly warm body and wrapped them around Dean's heaving chest to pull him up tight against him. Once Dean's back was firmly pressed against his own chest in a firm enough hold to ensure he wouldn't drop him and send him crashing to the hard ground, he dragged Dean from the car and around to the back end, making sure they were far enough away from the side of the road to safely rest where they were. Dropping himself to the ground with his brother's body still held tight in his arms, Sam relaxed his grip just a little and rested Dean's shaking form against him own trembling body as he laid his brother's head on his shoulder while Dean continued his struggle for air.

"Dean, what's wrong," Sam pleaded as he gave him a gentle shake. He was scared, really scared. This was a new one on him. This had never happened before. "Oh god, what can I do?"

"I'm gonna be sick Sam," Dean groaned as he tried forcing himself over, hoping gravity would help him out just a little.

Gravity may not help, but Sam would, and when he heard his brother's anguished announcement, he quickly turned him over so he was face to face with the pavement. No sooner had Sam changed his position, he felt Dean's entire body go stiff as his retching commenced, it being nothing more than spit considering Dean hadn't eaten all day. Yet another hint Sam should have picked up on but chose to ignore anyway, wanting to believe more than anything that Dean was fine, just like he said he was. _'I really should know better than that by now,' _he thought as he sat there holding onto the man, waiting for the spasms to stop. It took a long while, but he finally felt his brother's body mercifully relax as his breathing eventually evened out back to a somewhat normal pace, the entire episode leaving him soaked in sweat and a shivering mess.

"Hey…Dean…" Sam tried garnering his brother's attention after a few long moments as he pulled him back up to keep the blood from rushing to his head now that he had calmed. "Talk to me…please."

"Yeah…" he mumbled back, the cold night air chilling his body to the bone the only thing keeping him from passing out at the moment.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam needed to know, because if sudden lack of respiration was going to be a problem, they were not spending the night in a motel.

"Felt it coming…couldn't roll over…started choking…" Dean tried explaining, each word coming out agonizingly slower and more slurred than the word before. "M'kay now."

"Are you sure?" Sam had to ask, wondering just how long they were going to be sitting on the side of the road and planning on it being all night if it meant he could avoid going through **that** again.

"M'sure…help me up…" he murmured, and Sam could actually feel him putting some sort of effort into standing, albeit not really much of an effort. He just didn't have it in him, and Sam knew it.

Dragging Dean to his feet with him as he picked himself up off the hard pavement, he carried him more than guided him to the passenger side of the car and lowered him back inside, making sure he was not flat on is back but firmly on his stomach before closing the door behind him. He ran all the other episodes through his head, and he knew he had very little time to find a place to stay before things turned really ugly, and judging by how quickly things had already started to go downhill, he knew this would be the worst one yet.

Climbing back into the driver's seat, he started the car back up and pulled it out onto deserted road. His head was spinning and his nerves were just about fried when he saw it. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen; at least it felt that way at the moment. It was like a message from god, the green sign with the white letters that proudly displayed exactly what Sam needed to see. _Denison 13mi. Gas/Food/Lodging. _Breathing a huge sigh of relief, he pressed harder on the accelerator, trying to calculate just how long it would take to go 13 miles at his current rate of speed and deciding it wasn't short enough.

Five miles, he'd made it a whole five miles when Dean had started panting and coughing again, and even though he knew he couldn't see a damn thing going on in the back seat from the rear view mirror, he couldn't stop himself from trying. He tried for the longest time, but the longer he looked, the more nothing he saw. "Dean, are you ok?" He finally asked when his brother had gone eerily silent again, and Sam couldn't even hear him breathing anymore now. It was in that instant that Sam had torn his gaze away from the mirror and actually turned his entire upper body around to check on Dean. Even in the total darkness, Sam caught a slight glimpse of his brother's back rise as he took a breath. Dean had somehow amazingly fallen into a very deep sleep, which was rare on these occasions.

He didn't know whether to be grateful for the slumber or worried by it, but he wouldn't really have a whole lot of time to ponder it once he'd finally returned his eyes to the road. As if out of nowhere, suddenly there was someone standing right in front of him on the highway, and Sam was on a direct path with the unmoving dark form before him. Jerking the wheel hard to the left, he thought he'd reacted in time, but when he felt the hard thump against the passenger side of the car and saw something rolling on the ground in the rearview mirror, he instantly knew better. He jammed his foot hard on the brake for the second time today and sent the heavy vehicle into a slight skid before it came to a halt, the sudden, abrupt cessation of movement propelling Dean's prone body forward and into the back of Sam's seat with a hard jolt before he ended up resting on the floorboards.

"Shit!" Sam screamed as he turned to check on his brother first, who had been in what appeared to be a restful sleep before he'd been very rudely awakened from it.

"Sam…" he groaned from the floor in a definite daze. "What the…"

"Oh god Dean, I think I just hit someone! Oh man, are you ok?" He couldn't hide the panic in his voice, and even as out of it as he was, Dean could hear it.

"Yeah…go see…" he called out to Sam, who only needed to hear the word go to know he had his brother's permission, and he threw open the door and sprinted from the car in search of what had to be a person somewhere on the ground. He stopped dead in his tracks, sure that the sound of the body bouncing off the metal that echoed through his head would make what he was seeing nearly impossible and he actually considered pinching himself to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Standing in front of him was a woman, clearly up on both of her feet and brushing dirt off her jeans and jacket like nothing had happened as she returned Sam's stare with a shy smile.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you alright? I swear, I never saw you standing there. Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?" Sam rambled one thing after another as the girl just stood there listening to him, giving him nothing but curious looks as he stammered. She finally spoke when it appeared he'd run out of mental steam to continue and went quiet.

"Sam? Sam Winchester? Is that you?" She furrowed her brow as she asked him, and if he wasn't flustered already, he most definitely was now.

"Have we met?" He questioned her, racking his brain trying to figure out where he may know the woman he had apparently just run down but finding it impossible to organize his jumbled thoughts at the moment. Between Dean and her, his brain was totally on sensory overload now.

"Oh yes, we've met…" she answered with another warm smile. "I can't believe you'd forget."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to all that have read and reviewed. I am an inconsiderate jerk for not responding but I have loved reading each and every one. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.

Chapter 4

"Sam Winchester? Is that you?" She asked in as inquisitive a voice as she could possibly express and smiled wide through her furrowed brow when she saw his face take on a look of utter confusion. He was obviously in a state of panic that was bordering on sheer hysterics until she'd asked him the question and she sensed his mind immediately go blank for a moment at the sound of his own name from the unfamiliar lips before jump starting itself again in an effort to figure out who the woman standing before him that had not only amazingly avoided becoming road kill was but that somehow remarkably knew his name as well.

"Have we met?" He finally asked her after a few very long, very awkward minutes of staring and contemplating without coming up with an answer that made any sense.

She looked to be about his age, maybe just a little older, but not much. She had long, beautiful chestnut hair that cascaded over her shoulders in soft curls to the middle of her back and the most fascinating blue-gray eyes Sam was sure he'd ever seen that were surrounded by the creamiest-smooth ivory skin he had probably ever laid eyes on, next to Jessica's. The longer he stared into those soft, gentle eyes, the more transfixed he became. They were so hauntingly familiar to him he couldn't turn his own gaze away and for the moment, there were no other thoughts in his mind but those eyes that stared back at him. _'Where do I know those eyes from?'_

"Oh yes, we've met," she told him with another grin that made the corners of those eyes that had him already so spellbound curl up just a little and his attention was now totally hers. "I can't believe you'd forget. Professor Angellini's Ancient Mythology course…Stanford…remember?"

Sam remembered the course, he remembered it well. It had been a sure fire A+ for him his freshman year, considering the subject matter. It had actually been one of the few classes that he had taken that he probably knew more than the professor did, thanks to his father's relentless pursuit of all things evil and supernatural, but as the recollections of the classroom experience all those years ago came back to him, he still could not place the face that stood before him, as hard as he tried and as much as he really wanted to, until one small memory crept into his head. _'No way, it can't be,' _he thought to himself, but figured _'What the hell, if I'm wrong, I'm wrong…but I have to be right…but how can that be?_'

"Penny? Penny Wiser? Is that you?" He finally said with a small amount of realization in his voice as the name rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He hadn't seen her in nearly three years, and if she said yes, he was in for one hell of a shock.

"You do remember Sam," she nearly screamed as she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him so hard she nearly suffocated him. She hated the feel of him, but it had to be part of the show, so on with it. "It's so good to see you! How have you been?"

Sam was in shock, total and complete shock, so much so that he didn't even know what to say as he wrapped his arms around her and returned her embrace almost as hard as it had been given. The warmth of her touch and the feel of her body as it shuddered against him started a cascade of memories from those days not so long ago yet seemingly gone forever, those brief, happy days that seemed to be nothing more than a dream at times, like someone else had lived them for him and left him with nothing but mental snapshots and fuzzy recollections. He felt like he could just stand there and hold on to her forever, he was that lost in his thoughts of the not so distant past that had felt like a lifetime ago. She didn't know how much she had meant to him, but she had changed the course of his life forever when she had introduced him to her roommate Jessica when he came to tutor her in the subject matter, and for that she would always hold a special place in his heart, no matter how pained it may be. Fate had arranged them alphabetically together and somehow made all three fast friends, friends and more.

"Sam…your crushing me…" she whispered into his ear with a single breath and Sam instantly relaxed his grip on her and let her back down, totally unaware he had even lifted her off the ground in the first place. He held her at arm's length and gawked, marveling at what he saw. She was definitely not the same girl he had seen on graduation day of 2003.

"Penny…I can't believe it's you…wow…you look great!" He stammered as he stared, remembering the amply chubby girl that had been seated behind him in a classroom long ago that was now an incredibly attractive, voluptuous woman with curves Sam couldn't seem to take his eyes off of. He stared at her for what seemed like forever until he suddenly remembered why they were standing there in the first place and could barely keep hold of his emotions. "Oh my god, did I hit you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Sam, just a little dusty and dirty is all. I don't think you even hit me, I think you hit my bag instead and it kind of knocked me over," she laughed, kicking the heavy pack that sat at her feet with the toe of her hiking booted.

"Thank god, I thought I killed someone," he stated as he breathed a heavily audible sigh of relief before shifting back to the original conversation, "It's been nearly three years Penny, what the hell happened to you after you left? Man, I can't believe how great you look, I didn't even recognize you."

"Thanks Sam," she graciously replied. "It's amazing what a couple years in an African village with barely any food or water will do for you."

"What?" Sam exclaimed, confused yet again. He and Jessica both had lost contact with her not long after she had graduated with rest of the class, but he hadn't really known why. All he could really remember was that she had pretty much just dropped off the face of the planet. "What were you doing in Africa?"

"I joined the Peace Corp Sam, after my parents died two years ago…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Sam interrupted; surprised at the fact that she had never shared that with Jess. They may have been polar opposites, but they had been the closest of friends during their time together, at least until she had left for destinations unknown.

"It's ok Sam, nobody did. I didn't exactly feel like sharing at the time and decided to just run away. I guess I just needed to find myself and I wasn't really looking in the right places. It's amazing how much strength you can get from helping other people that just can't help themselves sometimes. I think I'm finally in a good place in my life now. I actually just got back a couple months ago and decided to hitchhike across the country just for the sake of doing it before figuring out what to do next, so…two and half years and ninety pounds later, here I am. What about you, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Just road tripping with Dean after…" Sam started, and his face went pale the second the name 'Dean' escaped his lips.

"Your brother Dean?" She asked him inquisitively as her eyes lit up and drifted towards the car. "Where is he? I'd love to see him again. The first time wasn't a very pleasant experience, if I remember correctly."

Her reminder to him of that particular weekend that Sam would rather forget had ever happened finally broke his intense concentration of every word she was saying, that and the fact that he saw the passenger side door of the Impala slowly drifting open out of the corner of his eye. He turned his full attention along with his head towards the car as his brother made a monumental effort to stumble out of it. His movements were slow and pained as he cut nearly half the distance between the car and himself as Sam stood there and watched transfixed. He was sure Dean would fall over with each step he tried to take as he staggered forward with one hand wrapped around his waist and another clutched firmly against his head.

"Oh shit…Dean," he bellowed into the cool night air as he turned from Penny and rushed to his brother's side.

Sam had been right in his assumptions of his brother's ability, or rather inability, to walk and as Dean started his inevitable fall forward, he caught him in his arms before he could land face first in the gravel of the road's shoulder and lowered him and himself to the ground. Sam grimaced when he felt the rising heat coming from Dean's body and knew it wasn't going to be long before the guns sounded and horses took off from their gates. He was twice as hot and twice as sweaty as he had been when he was lying on the ground not all that long ago as his body shook while he retched hard in Sam's arms five miles back. He'd also gotten 'that' look in his eyes; that lost, vacant stare that told him Dean wasn't really up there anymore. Judging by that look, time had pretty much run out now.

"Sammy…" he mumbled as he tried to focus on his brother's face through his glassy eyes now that the two of them were planted hard on the cold ground together again, "What the hell happened?"

"It's alright Dean, everything's alright. What are you doing out of the car?" Sam demanded through a worrisome tone. He could see Dean was in no condition to do or say much of anything anymore and knew they needed to get somewhere soon, really soon.

"I got worried when you didn't come back," he whispered, his deteriorating physical and mental condition removing any inhibitions he may have had about expressing his inner feelings as he reached up and rested a shaky hand on Sam's shoulder after brushing it against his cheek and made a small effort to sit up. "Are you ok?"

"Yes Dean, I said everything's alright," Sam tried to remain calm as that sickening feeling started to return to his stomach now that one crisis had passed and he could focus on the other, more pressing situation at hand. "You're not alright though and we need to get to a motel now before you start…"

"Ohhh…too late…" Dean nearly screamed when the stabbing pains struck him in the stomach first, then seemed to take a path directly to his head and he didn't really know which one to grab at first. With only two hands, he just took hold of his head and curled into a ball before rolling onto his side while his sweat soaked upper body rested in Sam's lap.

"Good god Sam, what's wrong?" Penny frantically asked as she dropped down to her knees next to the brothers and reached for Dean, who had not been able to shut himself off entirely just yet and tried to look at the strange, yet somewhat familiar voice coming from out of nowhere. From out of nowhere now that he could barely see anything but blinding white light anymore.

"Do I know you?" He barely got out in a whisper as he unconsciously extended a hand to her, and to Sam's surprise, his brother stilled somewhat when she took it in her own. Sam looked at her questioningly when he felt Dean relax just a little and she just shrugged her shoulders as she answered the agonized man.

"We've met once, but I doubt you remember," she softly and gently stated and paused to let him listen before continuing. "I think you were just as sick then too," she then finished as she gave his a hand another comforting squeeze.

Dean didn't know why her touch felt so good to him and he really didn't care. The instant she had taken his hand in hers and started stroking it with her thumb, the blinding agony in his head had reduced itself to only an intense but almost bearable pain, nearly leaving him with the ability to see again. The shooting pains that had started in his stomach and had shot out in just about every direction possible that caused him to pull his knees up to his chest in his own defense against the invisible enemy invading him had settled into just his gut now and he could actually breathe just about normally. Sam immediately saw the change in Dean and planned on using it to his advantage, if an advantage is what you could call it.

"Dean, this is Penny. She's a friend of mine from school. She's going to sit here with you while I run to the car and get the bag, ok?" He told his brother and waited for him to either say or shake his head yes before he left him.

"S'okay Sammy, I'm ok," he mumbled. He could sit with her all night for all he cared if she kept the worst part of the pain away. "The pretty girl will take care of me while you're gone."

Sam caught Penny's stare in his own and was clearly asking her for her help with just his desperate look. She could see he was way beyond upset and had Dean not been in such a bad state as he laid on the ground before them both she would have enjoyed it. She did still have that axe to grind against him, but for now there was nothing she could do about it. But this wasn't about Sam, this was about Dean. She shook her head at him and extended her free hand in an inviting gesture and as Sam slid out from under his brother she took his place beneath him, supporting his head and shoulders as she stroked his brow. He'd briefly let out a pained moan then fell still as he lay against her, barely moving anymore at all.

Sam ran to the car, threw the trunk open, jerked his duffle out and turned around in a matter of seconds before sprinting the short distance back to his brother and dropping himself and his bag down on the ground next to him. He ripped the zipper open hard and tore through the bag desperately in search of something and let out a loud sigh when he finally found what he'd been in search of. She watched with a hidden smile as he pulled out the small glass bottle she'd given him back at the emergency room in Michigan, a needle, a bottle of water and a brown bottle of some kind of prescription drug. He tore open the needle, filled it with the fluid in the bottle and proceeded to shoot it into his brother's upper arm through his shirt and all. Sam was surprised at the response he got, considering he usually got none at all.

"Ow, what the hell was that for Sam?" He half slurred, half whined like a delirious child, and Sam was actually happy to hear him saying anything at all. '_Maybe this isn't going to be as bad as I thought it would be.'_

"It's gonna stop you from throwing up anymore so I can get this Demerol and some water in you without you puking it right back up, and hopefully you won't end up in the hospital later."

"Water would be good, my mouth tastes like shit," he continued to grouse and Sam enjoyed hearing each and every complaint Dean made, totally ready and hoping for more.

Sam opened the water bottle and pressed it against his brother's lips, the action not getting the response Sam had expected. Even with shaking hands, Dean took the bottle from his brother and slowly drew in the somewhat warm liquid inside, determined to actually help himself. Sam just let him do it and silently took one of Dean's hands away and pressed two of the tablets from the brown bottle into it, which he forced down by himself as well. After drinking in half the bottle he'd had enough and as his eyes started drifting closed, the bottle started to tip. Sam caught it before it splashed to the ground and he recapped it before tossing it back into the bag, then gathered up the bag and tossed it back in the trunk along with Penny's. After seeing the calming effect she had on Dean, Sam didn't care what it took, she was coming with them.

The simple act of drinking water added to whatever pain he still had that he was doing his best to hide must have exhausted him, and Dean was nearly on the verge of sleep. Sam knew it, Penny knew it, and Sam wanted him back in the car before he was all dead weight and he'd have to move him entirely on his own.

"Dean, come on, we need to get out of here," Sam somewhat barked in the hopes of jolting him into some sort of consciousness before his lights went totally out and couldn't be turned back on until his body was ready to flip the switch itself. He grabbed his brother by the arm with one hand and hoisted him upright as gently as he possible could without a word of warning as he wrapped the other one around Dean's waist and held him in a standing position until he could get his feet underneath him.

He tried as hard as he could, but he just couldn't keep his feet firmly on the ground and Penny watched as he started going down, taking Sam with him. She jumped off the ground like a cat and caught the two of them before they could hit the ground together, holding Dean up as Sam quickly regained is balance.

She wrapped an arm tightly around Dean's waist as he unconsciously draped his own over her shoulder and it immediately hit her heightened senses how violently ill he had become just since leaving the last gas station she'd followed them from. The effects of her poison were still staunchly in control of him even after all these weeks and she knew it was bad when the scent of hot sweat and stale vomit assaulted her keen sense of smell. She knew that scent; she had burned it into her memory that long night so many months ago when she'd been hunting him in the dirty, old asylum, hell bent on eliminating him at all costs. This time though, she was hell bent on just the opposite. She would help him get well, get him through this, and make sure it never happened again.

She stroked the hot, wet flesh on the back of his hand as she held it in her own and supported half his weight as Sam had the other half and they slowly carried Dean back to the car. She lowered herself into the back seat first and surprisingly brought Dean down and drew him in with her with barely any assistance from Sam as she slid across the smooth leather to the other side, resting his limp head in her anxiously awaiting lap.

"Think you can give a girl a lift into town Sam?" She coyly smiled as she rested a hand on his brother's chest.

"I think it's the least I can do," he told her through his own scared smile. Taking hold of his brother's feet, he lifted them up and bent Dean's legs at the knees before gently rested them on the seat and closing the door behind him.

'_That was entirely too easy,'_ she thought as she watched Sam climb in, start the engine and pull back out onto the road as she held Dean's sick and tortured body in her lap, enjoying the sound of every breath he took.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Happy Sunday everyone! I know it's a little short and for that I'm sorry. but I had to stop it there for the sake of possibly making it too droning. Thanks to everyone still reading it!!

Chapter 5

Eight miles. It was still eight long miles to Denison, eight long miles to a sanctuary of sorts. Penny hadn't really said a word for the first couple miles they'd driven as Sam white-knuckled the steering wheel while he nervously chewed on his lower lip; the first couple miles which had gone by relatively quickly considering Sam's foot on the gas pedal made the needle on the speedometer occasionally hit eighty, the only thing slowing him down being the agonized groans coming from Dean as he cried out behind him when he'd hit one of those damn potholes that never seemed to end on this particular country back road. He'd sway left or right when he caught a larger one in the headlights in time to avoid it, but that didn't happen often enough and he usually just plowed right into them and he'd cringe when Dean would let him know he'd felt it ripple through his entire body like a shockwave.

Dean had long since rolled onto his side and pulled his knees back up to their usual place at his chest as he rested his head against Penny's left arm while his entire upper body rested in her lap with his sweat soaked back now pressed hard against her. He hadn't eased up or let go of her hand yet, the hand that was at the end of the arm draped around him in a gentle embrace as he held on tight to it, refusing to let it go. She enjoyed the feel of him against her and drank in the heat pouring from him as she rested one hand on his red hot forehead while she stroked the hand he held onto gently with her thumb.

"Sam, what's wrong with Dean?" She finally broke the silence in the vehicle. She could feel the tension oozing from every inch of Sam's body and for some reason wanted to get him talking, she wanted to hear everything from Sam's mouth that had happened, she wanted to hear Sam's point of view.

"He gets migraines sometimes, it's no big deal," he told her, partially the truth but not entirely. He couldn't tell her what was really wrong because he knew she would think he was crazy. Little did he know…

"Sam, I'm not a doctor but I know this isn't just a migraine," she observed, anxious to hear what excuse Sam would make next for what was going on. "He's burning up, his got the worst chills I've ever seen or felt and he's curled up in a tight ball in what looks like quite a bit of pain. I'm beginning to wonder if he's going to start hyperventilating with how hard and heavy he's breathing too. Whatever this is, I sure hope it isn't contagious because he's also soaked with sweat that just doesn't seem to want to stop."

"Don't worry, it's not contagious. He's just got this chronic thing that flares up every once in a while. He'll be ok in a couple of days. I just need to get him somewhere where he can sleep it off, that's all," Sam evasively told her, skirting entirely around the truth that he was dead set on keeping to himself. The truth that she was bound and determined to get him to admit, one way or another.

"Is it the same thing that hit him when he came to see you back at Stanford? You remember, don't you? It was right before Christmas, 2003? Right after you started seeing Jessica? Wow, sitting here with him like this now makes that almost seem like yesterday. God, he was really sick that night too, pretty much like he is right now," she asked him coyly, knowing full well what had happened back then and instantly felt an enormous barrage of negative feelings coming from him when those memories came flooding back as he fidgeted in his seat like he was suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin.

He had to clear his throat hard before he answered her now that an entire army of frogs had taken up residence around his Adam's apple with their weapons drawn and ready to fire. He hadn't thought about that weekend in a very long time, mostly because it had been one of the most painful moments of his life and he'd rather not relive it if he didn't need to. It was also the last time he had seen his brother before he had cut him totally out of his life for nearly two years, two years that ended when Dean had abruptly shown up out of the blue and begged him for his help to find their wayward father. Help he reluctantly gave that had suddenly turned his normal life upside down in the blink of an eye.

"No, it's not the same thing, this is totally different," he finally told her and she could tell she had struck a nerve and struck it hard, which is exactly what she had wanted to accomplish with her trip down Bad Memory Lane.

"Oh. Do you think we need to find him a doctor? This seems really bad Sam," she continued hammering the questions now that she had him against the ropes, hoping to find his breaking point soon.

"No, a doctor can't help him. It's just gotta run its course like it always does," he quietly said, not sure if she had even heard it. Her nod to his response he saw in the mirror as he glanced into it told him she had though.

"Sam, what was that you gave him back there? Did you say you were giving him Demerol?" She continued questioning; knowing Sam was getting more and more anxious with each mile that went by. She could feel that he wanted to tell her everything just for the sake of getting it off his chest and with just a few more properly asked questions or correctly phrased comments she knew he would. He'd been holding in a lot of guilt for a very long time and he was about ready to vent it to someone, anyone that would listen because he knew he couldn't vent it to Dean. Dean obviously had his own problems to deal with.

"Yeah, why?" He answered and asked rather nervously as he stole another glance of her in the mirror.

"I don't think it's working,' she informed him and the second she did, she felt the car sway just a little from left to right before correcting itself. She held back the smile she wanted to let spread across her face because she knew that hadn't been caused by another crater in the road. That had been all Sam.

He took in a deep breath and she knew he didn't want to ask the question he was about to pose as he tried catching a glimpse of his brother in the mirror this time, an action he knew was pointless by now but he mindlessly continued to try anyway. "How can you tell?"

"Because his knees are practically glued to his chin and he's got a death-grip on my hand that he seems to not want to release," she answered him bluntly in the hopes of upsetting him more.

"It's working then," he told her in a not so nice tone as he just continued to drive and nearly cried out with joy when he finally hit the Denison town limits. "If it wasn't working, your hand would probably be broken by now."

She nearly laughed out loud at that comment; not at the humor, but at the sheer irony. Sam had meant it to be deadly serious and she knew he was partially right. Her hand probably would have been crushed into pieces if Dean was in the amount of pain he was usually in by this point, but what Sam didn't know was that it wasn't the Demerol that was keeping the excruciating agony at bay today. Sam hadn't been able to fully eradicate her blood that had been flowing through Dean's veins back in Rockford, the blood that had been dodging antibiotics for days and had nearly succeeded in killing him before finally being forced to lay dormant as the lethally toxic silver Sam had force-fed his brother started killing it off. It hid itself deep inside him long enough for Dean to make his miraculous recovery and only reawakened the first time she'd touched him weeks ago at that motel in Indiana. There wasn't enough of her blood still in him to stop what was happening entirely, but there was enough to at least keep it somewhat tolerable, for the time being anyway. The more she touched him, the more that would change though, of that she was sure.

"I'm sorry Sam; I didn't mean to push it. God, I haven't seen you in nearly three years and here I am interrogating you like it was just yesterday and upsetting you more than you already are. Please, forgive my complete and cruel insensitivity." There it was...she just played the guilt card that always worked with Sam…always.

"It's not your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it would be mine, all mine," he confessed and she knew he was about to spill his guts. "Dean's like this now because of me."

"What do you mean? How could this be your fault?" She softly begged to know and Sam was just about to tell her everything, until he saw the sign, that is. The sign he'd been waiting for miles to see.

"Ho-Hum Motel, great. Please don't let the name be any indication of the accommodations," he quickly changed subjects as he pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine once he'd come to complete stop in the spot right in front of the office doors. He turned to face Penny, who sported a rather unreadable look on her face, and quickly pointed out the window as he blindly reached for the door handle. "Be right back, don't go anywhere."

"Oh, don't you worry Sam, I'm not going anywhere," she said out loud to the empty air, confident that Dean couldn't hear a word either one of them said anymore. His brain had pretty much shut off five miles back when he'd quite obviously heard the conversation take a wrong turn in the direction he definitely didn't want go in. The same conversation that had made Sam so uncomfortable.

Those memories were ten times more painful than the burning, stabbing cramps in his stomach now or the throbbing in his skull and as they started forcing themselves back into his head. Instead of fighting them, he just let the blinding white torture in his mind take over and shut him down completely. He'd rather have the physical anguish then the emotional torment of what had happened that weekend. It was the moment Sam had nearly killed him inside when he'd told him, not asked him, to go away and stay away.

"I'm not going anywhere without Dean, that is. After everything you've done to him, you don't deserve him," she muttered, this time to herself. God, how she hated Sam more and more every day now.

Sam had burst into the office in a near sprint and impatiently waited at the counter for someone to come out and help him, even after he'd rang the bell repeatedly at least three times. He'd heard someone holler 'Hold yer damn horses, I'll be right there,' after the third round of pounding on the bell and instead of beating the little noise maker to death he just took to pacing the small office floor instead. By the time the rather frail looking old man had limped from the back to the office, Sam was about ready to explode.

"What can I do fer yuh, young man?" The crusty looking elderly gentleman asked with a smirk on his face. He may be old, but he still had the eyes of a cat and had a pretty good idea what Sam was so anxious about when he saw the pretty young thing sitting in the back seat of the enormous black car parked out in the well lit lot right in front of his door. The old man was almost positive Sam wasn't looking for directions when he saw her.

"I need a room," he stammered as he fumbled with his wallet, his hands were shaking so bad now he could barely keep a hand on it.

"I bet you do," the old guy went on. "Little nervous there junior? It's not your first time, is it? She sure is a hottie, ain't she? I sure hope you got protection," he chuckled as he asked while he pointed to the door and Sam was instantly mortified.

"No mister, I'm not here to lose my virginity to the 'hottie' in my car. I need a double and I need one with a microwave and refrigerator if you've got it. Give it to me for two days at least, maybe three…and where's the nearest hospital? My brother's really sick in the back seat with that 'hottie' and I don't want to be screwing around if I need to get him there later?" Sam had been nearly yelling by the time he'd gotten everything out to the old man, who had backed up a little more at each word the crazed kid frantically spoke. Sam had been so preoccupied with relaying his requests that he had never seen the kindly older woman that had snuck out from the back and was staring at him as she took the spot the older gentleman had just vacated and patiently waited for him to finish.

"It's alright young man, just calm down and breathe for a minute," the elderly woman softly spoke and she laid a reassuring hand on Sam's arm now that he was leaning heavily against the counter before him. "I've got a nice room with exactly that and it's yours for as long as you need it. As for the hospital, you just turn right out of the parking lot and follow the signs. It's about two miles down, you can't miss it."

"Thank you," Sam sighed as he forced himself to relax against the warm, comforting feel of the old woman's hand on his arm as she gave him a gentle, supportive squeeze. He'd never had the joy of a grandmother's warm embrace, but he imagined that it would have felt just that way and at this particular moment, it was exactly what he needed.

"You are very welcome…" her voice trailed off, indicating the unspoken question she was obviously asking.

"Sam, Sam Winchester," he told her as he pulled out cash from his wallet to pay for the room. In his lack of clarity, he had given her his real name and wanted to kick himself as soon as it left his mouth. He had no credit cards with Sam Winchester boldly printed on them, so cash it would have to be. "Is that enough?"

"It'll do. Well Sam Winchester, do you need any help getting your brother inside or can you and the little lady there handle it yourselves?" She asked as she slid him the key the old man had grabbed from behind her and tossed on the counter.

"I think we can handle it, thanks," he answered as he took it and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Rooms to the left about four doors down. You pick up that phone in there and dial 0 if you need anything, you hear?" She had told him and Sam was warmed even more by the genuine look of concern in her eyes.

"I will…and thank you again," he called over his shoulder as he sprinted back out the door and back to the car, leaving the old man and woman gaping open mouthed at the little bit of excitement that come seemingly their way.

"Well, I think it's shaping up to be an interestin' couple days now, wouldn't you say?" The old man asked as he watched Sam pull away and to drive the short distance to the room they'd be staying in for the duration.

"I would say so," she answered and ducked out from behind the counter to watch them from the small window at the side of the office. She didn't like what was happening, not one bit.

End Notes: I'm hoping everyone likes this short update. The next few will be longer, I'm sure, and they won't be very pleasant. It's going to be my take on why Sam and Dean didnt' talk for two years and I hope you all don't hate it.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Notes: Thank you to tvbatina for spurring me to update this. I somehow unconsciously put it on the back burner and hadn't even realized how long it had been since I updated it until she very subtly reminded me. Thanks again and thanks for being patient. I'll try not overlook it again for that long.**_

Chapter 6

Sam bolted from the door and ran the short distance back to the anxiously waiting Impala as quickly as his long-legged stride would take him. Throwing the door open a little too wide, the hinges screamed out in protest when they reached their extension limits and recoiled sharply enough to nearly take off his foot when it came back and slammed shut behind him. Plopping himself back down hard into the driver's seat, he stuffed the key into the ignition and cranked the engine over a little more forcefully then necessary, causing the starter to make some complaints of its own now. Dropping the transmission into reverse, he hit the gas with a little too much oomph and for the briefest of moments the tires just spun underneath them before finding purchase on the cool pavement and backing them away from the building. He hated that Dean never once muttered a word of complaint at the way he was treating his 'baby' because had his 'overly possessive about his car' big brother been even the slightest bit coherent, he would have already smacked Sam upside the head for his complete and total disregard for the one and only inanimate object that he actually considered to be a part of the family. She was a Winchester just as much as he and Sam.

"Sam, please calm down. Everything is going to be alright," Penny spoke softly as she leaned forward slightly and rested her free hand against the back of Sam's shoulder to give him a reassuring pat. She could feel the tension and stress ooze from him and fill the air around them all, but the contact had at least made him pause to take in a deep breath before he put the car into drive a little more calmly then he had thrown it into reverse and crept the short distance between the office and the motel room only four doors down. The motel room that they were going to be holed up in for only god knew how long.

Seeing Penny sitting behind him amazingly keeping her cool and knowing panic would get him nowhere fast, he slowly pulled into a spot directly outside the door he had been directed to, calmly stilled the rumbling engine before tucking the keys into his pocket, and gently opened the door to get out, hoping he hadn't damaged it in his frenzied jerking of it open. He turned to face the back seat before climbing out of the vehicle and breathed another heavy-hearted sigh when he finally got a good look at Dean huddled in Penny's arms; his body visibly shaking even in the thick darkness surrounding them. The beam of the lone streetlight nearly twenty feet behind them cast an eerie glow on his brother's face as the light reflected off the heavy layer of sweat on his brow and Sam knew they were going to be in for quite an interesting night.

"Wait here while I go open the door. Do you think you'll be able to help me get him inside?"

"Yeah Sam, I think I can handle it," she answered, hiding the fact that his question somewhat offended her. Hell, she could probably carry Dean in by herself if absolutely necessary, but that would most likely tip her hand and she just couldn't have that.

Sam nearly leapt from the driver's seat and ran the short distance between the car and the door, anxious to see exactly what kind of accommodations they would be enjoying for the next few days at the 'Ho-Hum Motel'. He hadn't realized how bad his hands had started shaking until he tried sliding the key into the lock dead center of the doorknob, but after two failed attempts he finally steadied his right hand with his left and managed to slide the metal into the keyhole and turn the handle rather effortlessly. Reaching in and feeling for a switch on the wall, he flipped on lights that seemed way to bright even to his own tired eyes. _'No way in hell I'm bringing Dean in here with all these bulbs burning. Probably make him go completely blind,' _Sam couldn't help but think. The majority of the time, Dean couldn't even open his eyes unless all the lights were turned off and even then it was too dark for Sam to see if they were really even open at all. All he had was Dean's word that they actually were and when it came to Dean's word regarding his own health, his word meant shit sometimes.

Giving the room a quick once over scan, Sam was pleasantly surprised at what he was seeing. The spacious area held two double beds, both of which were adorned with thick, dark brown, comforters that looked amazingly soft to the touch. The beds were separated by a large nightstand that sat in-between them with one bedside lamp resting on each end, seemingly for each bed, and both were very brightly lit with what Sam thought to be a thousand megawatt bulb. He quickly marched himself inside and unscrewed the light bulbs from each lamp, making the room go mostly dark now that the only illumination inside came from another lamp that sat on the long dresser at the foot of both beds, thankfully with a much dimmer light radiating out from under the over sized lampshade. Sitting dead center of the lengthy dresser was a decent sized television with what appeared to be a cable box bolted to the top. _'Thank god for that. At least when Dean feels like opening his eyes, he'll at least have something worth looking at.'_

Just as he had frantically asked for, Sam noticed not only a microwave and a small, dorm-sized refrigerator ready for use in a far corner of the room, but a coffee pot with numerous cups and little packets of coffee ready for the making right next to them both along with a fully stocked rack of cream, sugar, and artificial sweetener. That was almost a godsend, because he was definitely going to need that sugar later. Letting his eyes drift to the right, he noticed what must have been the bathroom door mere feet from the side of the bed on the far side of the room propped open invitingly wide and was surprised at just how large the room seemed to be from where he stood. Yet another blessing in disguise when Sam realized that all three of them would probably fit in there at the same time with room to spare, because if recent history repeated itself, he and Dean would be spending a lot of time in that particular space together very soon, Dean over the toilet with Sam holding him up.

Turning to body to his left as he stood between the beds, he quickly pulled the comforter and blankets on the neatly made bed directly outside the bathroom door down to the footboards to reveal the equally soft, smooth, off white sheets underneath that unbelievingly had not one stain of any strangely colored substance embedded into them from only god knew who or what and let out a preparatory sigh now that he knew he had to begin the difficult task of bringing his brother inside and across the entire expansive area without waking all the other guests staying in all the other rooms. As he stood there momentarily staring at the bed that would be Dean's prison of sorts over the next few days and thanking god for the Ho-Hum motel being anything but ho-hum, he realized that for once in his life, Dean was most definitely not taking up his guard duty post on the bed closest to the door to feed his need to constantly protect them both. No, Dean was going to be as far away from the front door and as close to the bathroom as possible.

Checking out their accommodations for their unknown duration and appreciating how comfortable they truly appeared to be had somehow calmed Sam's overly taut nerves just enough to steady the worried shaking dominating both his hands and release the tightly bound knots that had tied his stomach to his throat for the last hour or so, letting it fall somewhat back into its proper place. Heading back towards the door without the frenzied gait in his movements, he marched back out to the car to begin the very unpleasant task of wrestling his brother's uncooperative body into the room, ready to begin what would be the first of a few very long nights.

Penny watched him approach from her spot in the back seat where she sat under Dean's heavy weight waiting patiently for him to return, not really wanting to be in Sam's presence but wanting to get Dean out of the car and spread out in a more comfortable position on a bed. She hoped there was more she could do to slow what she herself could feel was starting to completely overpower his entire form but this episode seemed to be the worst one yet and what little hold she may still have on his agonized body just may not be quite enough this time. She knew she could somewhat ease some of his pain but was beginning think she could do little else, but she sure would try. Grasping the door handle as Sam approached, she swung the door open just enough for Sam to grab on and pull it the rest of the way, allowing him access to the entire back seat. He knelt down beside the car and poked his head inside, figuring it was now or never.

"Dean, can you hear me?" Sam asked as he gently patted his brother's cheek before grasping his chin lightly in his hands to turn his face up to meet his, hoping somehow Dean would open his eyes just enough to remotely realize he was even there. He said nothing, just let out a hushed moan as if the slight physical contact Sam had just made with him pained him somehow. "Come on Dean, we need to get you inside."

Dean heard him, if only slightly, and wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep within his own head and lock his eyelids shut tight until this was thankfully over. If it were up to him, he would just lay there all night curled up safe and secure in the back seat of his own car, resting in the lap of that pretty girl he was sure he knew somehow as she stroked his head and hand gently with a soothing touch, the contact helping him drift off to the nowhere he really wanted to be in until he could just breathe again without that simple act alone causing him unbearable agony. He knew that wasn't going to happen though as he forced his brain to listen to what his brother was trying so hard to say to him, the words being the subtle warning that he wasn't going to like what was coming. He tried to prepare himself as best he could, but what little control he had over his own mind wasn't enough to stop whatever his body wanted to do. No, his body had a mind of its own now and there wasn't a damn thing he could really do about it, even if he wanted to.

He could feel the young woman he was sure he was crushing with his dead weight under him start to slide out from beneath his lax frame as Sam's strong arms found their way around his chest and the agonized groan he heard come from his own mouth startled even him as Sam tried pulling him out of the car and to his feet, the pain not registering immediately at the movement. He would have made an effort to get his legs underneath him to help his brother support their weight if his brain hadn't been moving on a three second time delay and instead of trying to aid Sam in his efforts, he opted to brace himself for what his mouth warned him was imminent. He had been right too, and when the pain that he could only describe as his entire body being lit on fire struck and spread from his center throughout his entire mass, he pulled the string on dimly lit bulb in his head and went totally lights out. His body could do whatever it wanted and he wasn't going to try to stop it. Truth was...he just didn't care anymore.

The anguished scream that suddenly erupted from Dean's lips had echoed sharply throughout the still air of the unseasonably warm night, it's agonized tone momentarily silencing even the crickets as they chirped their amorous nighttime songs of courtship to one another. The silence that hung over them once the cry had hushed was deafening to Sam's ears as the nocturnal choir refused to continue and Sam couldn't help but feel a little sick to his stomach when he felt Dean's head rest heavily against his own shoulder as he stood his brother up and wrapped one of his lax arms around his neck. The dead weight he held on to was almost too much for him to support as his mind still reeled from his brother's uncontrollable verbal outburst and he had to steady both himself and Dean against the side of the car before continuing.

As amused as she was at Sam ineptitude, Penny could stand to watch the awkward show no longer and decided it was time to take control of the entire situation considering Sam mentally and physically seemed totally unable to do so. Grabbing hold of Dean's arm that hung limply at his side, she draped it over her own shoulder and forced both men to stand up straight. Sam was oblivious to her obvious strength and as she wrapped one arm around Dean's waist to support him and one under his thigh to pick him up and carry him, she raised his leg off the ground, suspending him in the air between them. Sam mindlessly did the same until they had Dean elevated enough to walk the short distance inside. Taking the lead, she slowly and carefully maneuvered her way around the room to the turned down bed and they both lowered the hot, heavy body sandwiched between them down to a seated position.

With no further grunts or groans coming from his brother to distract him, Sam seemed to be able to think once again and started taking his brother's worn, leather jacket of his sweat covered body. The coat was thrown haphazardly into a corner with little regard to where it landed and Sam quickly went to work on the shirt that was clearly stuck to Dean's burning skin. Pulling the saturated fabric over his brother's limp head as Penny held the man upright; he drew the shirt down the length of his lax arms and tossed the soiled tee to the side right along with the jacket. Once his upper half was bare, Penny lowered him down sideways and rested his head on the pillows Sam had piled on one side as Sam picked his brother's legs up off the floor to lay them on the bed. Throwing any modesty his brother may have aside; Sam took off his brother's shoes, socks, and stripped him all the way down to his boxers before covering him with a light blanket only. Dean's body shivered uncontrollably now that he was nearly naked but Sam didn't want to bury him under the heavy blankets and hold in anymore body heat than necessary.

With Dean finally tucked in under a light cover and resting, albeit not comfortably by any means, Sam jogged back outside to the car without saying a word to Penny and quickly threw open the trunk to grab Dean's duffel, his own duffel, Penny's bag, and the bag safely tucked away in the corner that was waiting for just this exact emergency to arise. Sam had learned by now to be prepared for this at anytime, at least with supplies. He could never mentally prepare himself for these moments and always wondered after each one how many more they would have to endure. Slamming the lid to the trunk down hard, Sam raced back inside and slammed that door shut behind him too, dropped all the bags he carried onto the empty bed then dropped himself into a chair in the corner next to the dresser and took in a deep breath, letting himself slightly relax before moving on to the next step in the routine.

Brushing the back of her hand gently across Dean's sweaty brow one more time before rising as his face contorted into a new form of pain, Penny approached Sam where he sat, bent over to pick up her bag and tossed it over her shoulder before saying the last thing Sam wanted to hear, hoping she would get the exact response she was looking for. "Maybe I should go Sam. I'm not sure that your brother would want me here. Maybe I can get the room next door or something, at least until tomorrow."

The pained call that stole every inch of air in the room silenced Sam before he could say a word, leaving his mouth hanging agape as the answer hung unspoken on the tip of his tongue. She hated having to do what she had just done to Dean, her touch pulling him out of his own mind just enough to reel from the harsh wave of nausea she sent through him, but in her opinion, it was absolutely necessary. She promised herself she wouldn't do it again as they both turned their attention to the bed at the cry, Penny skirting around and Sam leaping over the empty bed that stood between them and Dean.

"SAM…help me" the name came out in a near shriek, but the feeble plea barely came out at all as he tried unsuccessfully to suck in a full lungful of air while his back arced and his upper body started to lurch up now that he had somehow ended up on his back in the middle of the bed with the pillows his head had been resting on were now covering his face instead of supporting his neck.

Penny's chosen path had cut Sam's off and she made it to Dean's side before Sam even had a chance to get close. Shoving the pillows to the off his face, Dean could feel her presence next to him and with near lightning speed he grabbed her arm and held it tight in his hand as he drew some kind of strength from her to roll himself over, leaving his back to both of them. He pulled on her arm hard enough that she lost her balance and fell on top of him, the action garnering a small grunt but nothing more. She rolled to the side quickly and momentarily rested her back against the headboard as she sat up, but before she could make any sort of move to climb off the bed, Dean had latched onto her with his other hand now, wrapped both arms around her and rested his head in her lap before apparently falling right back to sleep like nothing had ever happened.

Sam stared in shock at what he had just seen, the fact that even Dean's uncontrollable shivering had stilled and he now seemed to be resting rather peacefully for the first time in a long time against Penny's prone form. His hard and heavy breathing hadn't slowed to a normal rate yet, but it had eased enough and all Sam could do was wander back over to the chair he had been planted in before, throw his hands over his face and breathe another sigh of relief as he dropped back down onto the seat.

"Sam…" Penny started tentatively, knowing Sam was as vulnerable as he would ever be and decided it was time to start her questioning, wanting him to fell all the guilt and regret she knew he deserved. "My god Sam, what happened to his back? That looks so painful. Does that have anything to do with this?"

"It has everything to do with this," he answered solemnly with his hands still pressed hard over his face, the hitch in his voice unmistakable to her ears.

"But you said Dean was like this because if you. You didn't do this to him, did you?" She slyly asked the question in a suspicious tone that she knew would start the confessional flood of explanations and decided to sit back and let Sam spill the guts he had been dying to spill for months now to anyone that would offer to listen.

"Not directly, but it was all my fault. It's a long story anyway that I'm sure you don't want to hear," he started, only to hesitate for a moment. How was he supposed to share the whole story without her thinking him to be totally insane?

"It doesn't look like I'm going anywhere for a while Sam," she told him as she pointed to his brother's still body against her, trying to force the suspicion out of her tone and force some compassion in. She saw his physically slump in the seat and knew he couldn't hold his guilt in anymore.

"Dean and I have been on a road trip for a while now, since Jess…" he started but couldn't bring himself to say the actual words. Penny wasn't interested in hearing about Jessica, not in the least and cut Sam off quickly so he would get to the more interesting points.

"I know what happened back at Stanford and I'm so sorry Sam. I didn't want to say anything about it until you brought it up though. I understand if you aren't ready to talk about it yet. Just tell me what's going on now and maybe I can help," she told him, the comforting tone of her voice almost making her sick.

"Remember what I told you about my dad?" He asked, hoping to spare himself from feeding her anymore bullshit then he had to.

"That he's in a very dangerous line of work, yeah. Him and Dean both, right?"

"Right. Well, he went missing right before Jessica died and Dean and I have been looking for him ever since. We get an occasional clue left behind for us or an odd phone call from him here and there, but that's about it. It's almost like he's in hiding or something. I know that sounds strange, but if you knew our dad, you'd understand. After Jess, I just needed to find him, I can't really explain why." _No Sam, you really can't explain why so skip it and move on._

She could almost read his thoughts and needed to help him along just a little so he wouldn't decide his story was insane and clam up. She didn't know why, she just needed to hear it all from Sam, beginning to end. "Maybe because he's your Dad and you needed him."

"Something like that." _More like Jess died the exact same way my mother did and I wanted answers, even if it meant seeing the man drove me away in the first place. The man that forced me to abandon my brother. _"Anyway, we ended up in St. Louis for a little while and Dean got blamed for something he didn't do which pissed someone else off really bad. Bad enough that they pretended to be our father to lure us to Rockford with some crazy ass revenge scheme."

"_I don't think I like where this is going Sam," she commented before asking him to continue with her look alone._

"I don't like where it went either. There were two of them. One of them distracted me while the other one did a number on Dean. He never saw it coming and he beat the crap out of him. I thought he was gonna be ok, but then he got really sick," Sam paused to take a deep breath, knowing everything else he had to say was going to bring back all the pain he felt in his heart. "I took him to the hospital and left him there to check a few things out, but by the time I got back he was gone. They had somehow tricked him into leaving and abducted him."

"Oh god Sam, what happened after that?" She asked in a begging tone when it seemed he couldn't continue. Her calm voice spurred him to go on though, that and the fact that he needed to get this off his chest once and for all.

"They tortured him and almost killed him. I'm not even sure how I ended up finding him, but I did," he went on and she could see the tears streaming down his face as he continued to speak, any hesitation he had had now totally gone. "They still had one last trick up their sleeves though. They tampered with his medication and somehow he ended up ingesting enough arsenic to kill a horse. It's a miracle he's even alive now."

"Sam…my god, that's horrible," she nearly sobbed, never fully realizing what she had really done to them both. The more Sam spoke, the less she ended up hating him somehow. What he had done to her he had done to protect his brother and she could truly appreciate that. Too bad Sam hadn't learned to appreciate Dean sooner, because if she had her way, she would successfully use all that guilt and pain against him to take Dean from him for good.

"They purged out as much of the poison as they could from his system, but there's residual arsenic left in his body that…well…causes this. Eventually these episodes will stop, but for now all we can do is wait them out," he finally finished and was utterly exhausted when he was through. It wasn't the whole story, but it would do.

"Why do you say this is your fault Sam?" She dug in a little deeper, not satisfied he felt guilty enough yet.

"Because if I hadn't been distracted the way I was, none of this would have ever happened. I should have had Dean's back and I didn't. I should have been looking out for him the way he's always looking out for me. All his pain and suffering is my fault, it's always my fault." Sam admitted it all, mostly to himself. He finally said out loud what he had been feeling for a very long time, not just over the last two months but nearly the last three years. He had turned his back too many times on Dean and this always ended up being the result. She smiled when he cracked opened the door just a little to what else she wanted to hear from him and she knew if she gave it one more gentle shove it would burst open wide.

"Is what happened back at school when Dean came to see you also your fault? You changed somehow after he left, and where exactly did he go anyway? He was too sick to leave on his own, I remember that much. What happened that weekend Sam? I've always wanted to know but was too afraid to ask and since you refused to talk about your brother after had left, I just figured it had to have been bad," she nearly begged him to tell her and Sam wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"That's another really long story," he tried dodging the subject, but truth be told, he really wanted to get that off his chest also, ever since it had been brought up in the car.

"Well, as I already mentioned, it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere for a while," she offered and Sam was ready and willing to accept as Dean continued to sleep, totally unaware of the direction their conversation was headed.

_**End Notes: As always, I am anxious to know how you feel. It seems that Penny is loathed enough to illicit murderous thoughts amongst some and judging by some of the email I've got, I think I better hide back behind my rock in my yard again until this one's through.**_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sam had to think, think very long and very hard before even attempting to speak. He had to think very hard about exactly what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. There was no way he could relay that entire story the way it actually happened, not if he didn't want Penny to go tearing from the room like someone had just lit her hair on fire and the only available water source to douse the flames was clear on the other end of the continent. Problem was though, he couldn't tell the story at all without telling her things he just knew she would never understand or believe. She could sense his trepidation and knew exactly what to say to get him to open up all the way and tell her everything exactly the way it needed to be told without holding anything back. She knew quite a bit of the story already, but she wanted to hear it from Sam's lips. She wanted to hear it in Sam's words. She wanted to hear it with Sam's guilt.

"Is something wrong Sam?" She asked when he didn't say a word for the longest time as he sat just staring blindly at his fingers that mindlessly fidgeted with each other like they had a mind of their own.

"I don't know; it's just that what happened that weekend…" he started, and then trailed off as his mind began to wander again, his fingers finding something much more interesting to do as his teeth joined the party, teeth that were now chewing on his already nubbed nails.

"What did happen that weekend Sam? Please, just tell me," she nearly begged in an ostensive tone. She sounded so troubled and sincere yet wanted nothing more than to see Sam's bottomless pit of remorse at what he had done suck him in even deeper than it already had. "I was so worried about you and your brother after seeing him so sick and you so upset, then he was suddenly gone and you made it perfectly clear you weren't talking about it. It's obviously eating at you, isn't it?"

"I just don't know if I can tell you what happened," he replied, desperately wanting to lift the heavy burden off his chest he had been feeling for months now, if not years, but not sure he could.

"Does it have something to do with what your Dad and Dean do? Is it because you think I won't believe you," she led him, hoping he would take the bone she was throwing firmly in his teeth and run with it.

"Maybe…" he started and she cut him off quickly. The tentativeness in his tone told her she had him, and she knew it.

"Sam, I've talked to Rebecca, Rebecca Warren. I had heard about what happened to your brother from a few other people after I got back… you know, that he had killed Zach's girlfriend and that he was now dead. It really upset me to think that you had lost him so soon after losing Jess and she just told me everything to console me, and I do mean everything," she told him, trying to hide her smile when she heard the heavy sigh he let out and watched the way Sam's head fell slightly as the gaze of his eyes landed heavily on the floor again momentarily before turning back up to stare right back into her's with a look of shocked relief on his face. "I know what it is you guys do Sam."

"And you believed her? You believed what she told you?" He had to ask, he himself not believing what he was hearing.

"Africa is rich in supernatural folklore Sam. If I hadn't spent two years there and seen some really strange things, I probably would have thought she was crazy. I know better though, honest to god I wish I didn't, but I do," she answered in a confirming tone. That was it; he was primed and ready to fire.

Had Sam not been so filled with worry, anxiety and grief at what was happening to his brother at the moment and relieved at the small amount of relief she seemed to be giving him as she sat there holding him stroking his head unconsciously with her thumb, he may have actually seen through her well executed guise and she knew it but she also knew he was too consumed with thoughts of guilt, grief and fear for there to be room for much else, including suspicion. Especially considering how much he cared for and trusted her. She had been there that weekend in question, the one and only person he had had to lean on when things had gone way south and something in her tone of voice convinced him that she did at least deserve to know where Dean had gone and how that weekend had finally ended. Knowing he could tell her everything without fear of her calling the men in the little white coats to take both brothers away, he just shook his head and began talking as she began intently listening.

Saturday, December 20, 2003

Sam sat staring carefully at his computer screen, the flicker of webpage after webpage glowing on his face in the overly dark room as his fingers clicked away on the keyboard while and equally engrossed young man stood right behind him and leaned over his back watching exactly what he was doing with a heavy backpack draped loosely over his shoulder. After many minutes of frantic typing and tapping on the touchpad, Sam finally struck the enter key hard with his forefinger and turned to his excited companion that was breathing heavily down his neck, his face smiling wide as his printer started spitting out brightly colored pages one after another.

"Ok, your bus leaves in two hours so you better hurry up. There's your e-ticket, schedule, and confirmation. Dude, you are so gonna surprise her when you get there," Sam smiled even wider, knowing he would be doing exactly the same thing himself in just a few days time.

"Thanks Sam, I couldn't have done it without you," the eager twenty-something kid said as he grabbed his papers from the paper tray and bounded for the door, throwing it open wide. In his excitement to get to wherever it was he was so anxiously heading to, he never saw the man standing in the hall just outside with his knuckles bared, ready to rap on the door in the hopes of gaining welcomed entry inside. He slammed right into him, and not gently either, the impact nearly sending the new arrival to the dorm room squarely onto the floor. Sam didn't need to see a face to know where the unmistakable pained grunt had come from when he heard it, he just knew. Quickly rising to his feet, he turned and made his own way to the door, slightly stunned at who he was seeing on the other side.

"Dean? What are you doing here?" He asked, obviously surprised at the sight of his older brother standing in the doorway trying to brush himself off from his near spill as Speed Racer dragged himself up off the floor where he had indeed been briskly deposited after the collision, his heavy bag underneath him helping to cushion his fall somewhat.

"Whoa Sam, that's Dean…like your brother Dean?" The nameless young man questioned as he stood firmly back on his feet again.

"Jason, this is my brother Dean. Dean, this is my roommate Jason," Sam said, making the hasty introductions.

"Wow, the legend in the flesh. I've heard a lot about you, Dean. Somehow I thought you'd be taller though," he chuckled. Dean was by no means a short man, but between Sam's lanky frame and Zach's basketball player's physique, Dean was most definitely the stoutest of the group, the fact that he was somewhat hunched over going totally unnoticed by Sam in all the commotion.

"Yeah, well Sammy here is the freak of nature in the family, aren't you Sammy?" Dean asked rather sarcastically with one hand resting firmly on his chest as he slapped him on the back a couple times with the other before squaring his own shoulders and breezing past them both and into the room. Scanning it quickly, he dropped himself into the chair Sam had just vacated and flashed that incredibly charming Dean Winchester grin. "Looks like you were in a hurry Jason. Please, don't let me keep you from the fire."

"Yeah dude, the bus. You can't surprise your girlfriend for Christmas if you miss it. Ticket's non-refundable and you don't have the cash to pay the penalty. You better get going," Sam reminded Jason and as much as he wanted to hang around to see the man Sam talked about like he was larger than life, Jason wasted no time in leaving. Let's face it, Dean may be interesting, but a lonely girlfriend having nothing to look at but her family over the holidays had a much greater appeal.

"Merry Christmas Sam, see ya next year!" He told him as he left, Sam closing the door and locking it behind him.

"So, just hanging out in the dorms for the holidays little brother? You got nothing better to do for your Christmas break?" Dean wryly asked with his trademark smirk still plastered on his face as Sam turned to stare at him, still shocked he was even sitting there.

"Since you mention it, yeah, I got plenty better to do over break but not for a few days," Sam retorted, still wanting an answer to the question burning in his mind and feeling the need to ask it again as it had still gone unanswered. "So, what are you doing here Dean?"

"Is there something wrong with a guy wanting to spend some quality time with his little brother over the holidays?" Dean shrugged mildly as he looked away from his brother's penetrating stare. Mistake number one that Sam caught but made no reaction to. Sam never won staring contests, not that easily anyway.

"Since you hate the holidays, I'd say yeah, something's very wrong with that," Sam shot the comment to his brother before asking the other burning question he was dying and dreading to know the answer to but hadn't had the desire to ask until now. "So, where's dad."

"Not here, if that's what you're worried about."

"If he's not here and you are, then where is he?" Sam simply rephrased the question and asked it again, not liking the first answer his brother gave him, which wasn't really an answer.

"He's on a hunt in Salt Lake City with Caleb," Dean responded rather vaguely and Sam caught it right away. Sam was no dummy though, he knew how to play Dean's twenty questions game.

"And you're not with him why?" He asked the next logical question with a slightly annoyed tone. Dean never left their old man when he was hunting…never.

"Dude, I can do my own thing when I want to. I'm not a little kid anymore," he cracked back in something akin to a whine. Sam caught that hint too. Dean was hiding something.

"Mmm Hmm." Sam sounded, his lips pursed tightly together and his face set in a deep scowl as he shook his head a couple times acknowledging the bullshit his brother was trying to feed him. "Sure you can."

"Whatever…so, you got a cold one stashed somewhere for your big brother?" Dean tried changing the subject, wanting to talk about anything but their dad right now because he knew the subject would just lead to another fight between them and fighting was the last thing he wanted to do right now..

"Uh… no. Did you forget… not twenty-one yet?" Sam felt the need to remind his brother of his chronological limitations as he pointed at himself sharply with his own thumb.

"That's never stopped you before. I know you've got a fake ID lying around somewhere. I know because I made it for you, didn't I, Mr. George Alan O'Dowd," he took a turn at doing the reminding, laughing at himself for the brilliant choice of names. Boy George, how appropriate.

"Well, since underage drinking is frowned upon by the school and would probably get me kicked out of the dorms if I got caught and I can't afford to get an apartment yet, no, I don't have a cold one for you big brother," he dryly stated, starting to get annoyed now that Dean was clearly avoiding the point the had obviously come so far to make.

"What…you mean you don't make enough at the 'Pizza Emporium' to get a real place of your own? Maybe you should start selling term papers like I told you to. I hear there's big bucks in that." He chuckled slightly as he winked at Sam and threw him a nod.

"School frowns on that too Dean and that would get me kicked out of more than just the dorm," Sam retorted, relatively fed up with his brother's dodging of whatever subject it was he wanted to bring up.

"Too many rules around here little brother; don't know how you can stand it."

"Rules…you want to talk about rules?" The comment elicited an unfavorable response in the younger brother when he heard Dean say it as visions of his father's dictatorial raising of them both started swarming his head. "We had more rules than Cujo had rabies Dean and you know it!"

"Yep…and you broke each and every one of them every chance you got, didn't you?" Dean mentioned with no hint of anger in his voice which only irritated Sam even more.

"Yeah, I did. Lord knows you wouldn't buck the old man. No, you did everything you were told like…"

"I'm not here to fight with you Sammy," Dean said rather brusquely, trying to sound apologetic with his tone alone.

"Then why are you here Dean because I'm pretty sure it's not just to spread you lack of holiday cheer."

"I need your help." Dean finally spit out, knowing he'd pushed the wrong buttons on his brother and Sam immediately cut him off.

"I knew it! You're here on a job aren't you? That's why you didn't call first like you always do, because you know I would have said no," Sam nearly yelled, clearly furious now.

"Please Sam, just hear me out," Dean raised a hand to Sam to cut off the start of his tirade before it could get anymore fueled up than it already was but Sam ignored it and continued ranting anyway.

"So, that's why you're here alone, isn't it? Dad's too busy doing his own thing to help you with whatever he sent you after and told you to come get me instead, right? Because someone has to watch your back when he can't. Damn it Dean, doesn't he…"

"He doesn't know I'm here Sam," Dean's voice came out in barely a whisper as he visibly slumped in the chair, the long look on his face quickly hidden as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, the action immediately shutting his brother's angered tap of words off at the faucet. "I screwed up Sam, screwed up bad, and I need your help to make things right."

Sam was shocked. Not only at what his brother had just confessed but at how dejectedly he had confessed it. "You screwed up how?" Sam asked, a little more benevolently now that his anger was nearly forgotten, his brother's hushed tone and words driving them right from his head.

"Three months ago, dad and I were hunting a werewolf up in Oregon. Nasty sucker. Started chewing on some high school kids at some boarding school tucked away in the woods after chowing down on some of the maintenance workers the month before school actually started. Flippin' idiots thought it was a bear or something, but Dad knew better."

"Yeah, because Dad always knows better, doesn't he?" Sam couldn't help but huffing out at his brother's constant praise of their father.

"Sam…please," Dean begged with his eyes only, needing to finish now that he had finally started.

"Ok…sorry. Go on."

"Well, there was no way in hell we could drive right up to the front door and tell them we were werewolf hunting so we had to go hiking through the damn woods. By the time we finally got there and found a good spot to camp out in, it was nearly midnight. Hell, we didn't even have our shit unpacked when I heard something rustling in the trees in the distance and by the time I figured out where the noise was coming from, it was too late, the son-of-a-bitch was gone."

"No pun intended?" Sam tried joking, hoping to lighten Dean's mood. He failed. Dean just shot him a dirty look and kept talking. He hated spilling his guts to Sam as much as he hated having to ask for his help and knew if Sam interrupted him again he would probably just leave and forget he had ever come here in the first place, desperately in need of his brother's assistance or not. Ignoring the comment as best he could, he just continued.

"We went back early the next night and waited. Waited for a long time too. I'm not sure what exactly happened but when the time finally came…I…ummm…"

"You what? What the hell happened Dean?" Sam wanted to know, somewhat concerned at his brother's constantly changing facial expressions as he spoke but not really sure exactly how to interpret them for how quickly they came and went.

"I missed the shot Sam. I took it and missed it and the fucker got away. We went back the last night of the lunar cycle but it was long gone."

"You missed the shot? You…Dean Winchester? The man who could shoot a fly off a horse's ass a hundred feet away and not even hit the horse?" Sam asked, his shock at what his brother was telling him growing even more than the shock of seeing him show up at his door unannounced in the first place. "You NEVER miss a shot Dean, what the hell happened?"

"I got distracted, ok? What difference does it make why I missed the shot? I just did. All that matters is that at least six more people are dead because I wasn't paying attention and let it get away."

"What did dad say?" '_Hmm, dumb question there Sam.'_

"Nothing. He said absolutely nothing to me for three days. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. Something else came up and we took off like business as usual, but I knew he was pissed. He never said another word about it again."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here and why you need my help."

"Check this out," Dean told him as he pulled a folded up, partially crumpled newspaper article from his back pocket and threw it at Sam then returned to his stiff seated position waiting patiently for him to read it, shaking his head up and down with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead to wordlessly insinuate the obvious when Sam stared at him with a million questions forming behind his eyes when he was done.

_Two Dead In Separate Animal Attacks_

_December 19, 2003_

_Two people have been found dead in as many days and authorities are on the search for a large, rogue animal before it can kill again. Police say that the bodies of two unidentified hikers were found barely half a mile apart in the deep woods surrounding the Big Sur State Park System in California after being mauled by an extremely large, extremely dangerous animal in separate incidences. These after the discovery of three other bodies in late November of this year have authorities baffled at what could possibly be stalking campers. Sources close to the investigation stated that the bodies had clearly been partially devoured after…_

_(continued on page 3)_

"Dean, how do you know this is the same one?" Sam had to ask, his voice a little wary.

"Trust me Sam, it's the same one. Don't ask me how I know; I just know," Dean replied, his own tone telling Sam not to ask again because he wasn't telling.

"So, why didn't you just tell dad?" Sam had to voice the obvious next question, knowing exactly what Dean's answer would be. Dean had disappointed their father, and to Dean that was worse than death itself.

"Because this was my screw up and I have to fix it myself. It's the last night of the lunar cycle Sam and I sure could use your help on this. I've only got one chance to make this right and it has to be tonight," Dean gave the answer Sam had already expected to hear, the desperation in his brother's voice pretty much making it impossible for him to say no. Sam let out a heavy hearted sigh as he stared at the piece of paper still clutched in his hand, barely making out the name of the newspaper the article had come from. His frown deepened when he realized it was the Salt Lake Tribune.

"Dean, you didn't just leave Dad without telling him where you were going, did you? I mean, if…" Sam started to ask before Dean cut him off. Dean knew how Sam felt about their father and even though he could probably go the rest of his life without seeing him ever again, he did still love the man.

"I told him I had something to take care of Sam, and since he doesn't seem to want me around lately anyway, he let me go," he answered, trying to hide how much the thought hurt him inside. "Besides, he's got Caleb covering his ass and it's not like he can't handle what they're up to himself anyway even without Caleb shadowing him."

"So you just jumped in the car and drove twelve hours on one lousy newspaper report," Sam continued questioning; wanting to make sure his decision was going to be the right one.

"I guess so," Dean matter-of-factly responded.

"What would you have done if I hadn't been here?" _'Was that twenty questions yet? Yep, at least twenty.'_

"Come on Sammy; where else would my loser little brother be? So, are you gonna help me or not?" Dean finally asked then sat back and stared at his brother's pinched up face.

"Yeah Dean, I don't know why, but I'm gonna help you, but don't you ever do this to me again. I already told you…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…you're not a hunter anymore, I know. Don't worry, I won't ask you again."

"It's a two hour drive to Big Sur. I sure hope you know exactly where we need to look because that's a lot of ground to cover in a few hours. If we leave now it'll be dark by the time we get there."

"I know exactly where to look, so no time like the present then," Dean stood to leave as Sam motioned towards the door, his slow, stiff movements not lost on Sam's relatively keen 'when it comes to my brother' eye.

"Hey, are you ok?" He voiced his concern as he watched Dean's rather weary, ambling gait that had a slight, barely detectible limp to it. It was so subtle that no one but John would probably have even noticed it as he walked. John and, even after all their time apart, Sam as well.

"I'm fine Sam. It was just a long drive and I'm a little stiff," he mumbled his reply and waited for Sam to exit the room first, wanting to be behind his brother and out of his watchful eye long enough to repair the obvious falter in his well constructed mask. Falling apart would have to wait until later because right now he had work to do.

_End Notes: OK, there it is, the start of the story. I'm really sorry for not putting it all down at once but it's going to be a little longer word wise than I originally thought it would be and I just need to take my time spitting out the details so it makes sense. I already know that there wasn't a full moon on December 20, 2003 but hey, I'm allowed to embellish every now and then, right? Let me know if you love it or hate it, I always want to hear the opinions, no matter what they may be._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"So… what's new, little brother," Dean had made the fatal mistake of asking when they had finally gotten out onto the open road and Sam had no problem answering his single, solitary question with a barrage of answers that made little to no sense to the weary older man as he drove the painfully long ride back the way he had already come just a few short hours before. Sam could tell something was not quite right in the car when Dean's responses to his chatter started with one or two word phrases that gradually declined into nothing more than an occasional grunt of shake of his head.

"Dean… What is wrong with you?" Sam's voice tore through his head when he nearly barked at him and the shock of hearing his brother's unidentifiable tone caused him to jump slightly. He couldn't tell if Sam was irritated, annoyed, or concerned but he had a pretty good idea the next few sentences his little brother spoke would answer that question for him.

"I'm fine Sam. Did you have to yell at me?" Dean semi-shot back with a little irritation of his own rising in his voice, trying to hide the slight hint of embarrassment that crept up inside him when he was startled from his thoughts like a daydreaming little girl.

"It finally got you to listen to me, didn't it? You've said, like, ten words the entire time we've been in this car. Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or are we going to play the 'I'm fine' game again?"

"Why do you always think something's wrong?"

"Probably because I just spent the last five minutes telling you about this really great girl I met and you never once asked me if she either rides the mini-bus with the rest of the mentally challenged kids, runs on AA batteries, or needs a tire pump to get ready for a date, that's why."

"Does she?" He forced a grin that he tossed in Sam's direction as he subtly waggled his eyebrows in the hopes of placating his annoyed sibling as Sam just continued to glare at him, trying to read his facial expressions and body language and noticing his first clue that something just wasn't right as he caught a glimpse of Dean's fingers clamped so tightly around the steering wheel his knuckles were nearly white with each tendon standing out proud and doing an occasional dance under his flesh when he would turn the wheel slightly left or right.

"Does she what?" Sam automatically asked without thinking, instantly regretting it the second the question came out.

"You know… run on batteries?"

"It's not funny when I have to feed you the material to bust my balls with," Sam rolled his eyes and decided to just go quiet when Dean's stare drifted back out onto the road in front of them as he sat rigidly in the driver's seat with his jaw clenched so tightly shut he thought for sure he could see every muscle in his older brother's troubled face and neck trying to pop out through the skin that protected it. If that wasn't bad enough, the sporadic grinding of Dean's upper teeth against the opposing ones gave Sam a random shiver when he would hear it every so often. Dean would only grind his teeth on the rarest of rare occasions, and they were never pleasant ones that usually involved bowing down to their father's iron will, no matter what.

As much as Sam wanted desperately to know what was bothering his brother so badly, he knew that when Dean was wound this tight, it was better to just keep the status quo; especially considering what they were driving into. There would be plenty of time to interrogate Dean later. With nothing to distract his thoughts from the worst, Sam decided he'd heard enough of just the roar of the Impala's engine and leaned forward to turn the radio on, something he was also rather surprised Dean had not already done. Flipping from station to station, he finally settled on something more to his own liking then to what Dean would have filled the air of the big, black Chevy with and nestled back into his seat as his eyes fixed on his brother's stiff body and waited for the inevitable complaining to start, which unbelievably never did; even when Sam started humming right along with the Dave Matthews Band.

Not another word was said between the two brothers as the picturesque sunset that Sam had been admiring outside his window as Dean made the long trek south gave way to the nearly pitch black of night; the full moon not quite high enough in the sky to help illuminate the dark ground just yet until Dean drove well off the road onto the grassy shoulder before throwing the car into park and killing not only the engine but the radio right along with it. Turning his face in Sam's direction and praying anything written on it he didn't want his brother to read would be readily masked by the darkness inside the vehicle, Dean stuffed the keys into his coat pocket and spoke for the first time in well over an hour.

"I hope you're wearing comfortable shoes Sammy because we're gonna have to hoof it from here. I already scoped out an area through those trees that is as good a spot as any to wait this bitch out."

"Wait a second, you were here once already? When?"

"Earlier. Did you think I wouldn't check the place out before I dragged you here?"

"You drove all the way up here with nothing more to go on then a newspaper article so what do you think?"

"I think you better tie your shoes up nice and tight because we've got some walking to do," Dean told him before climbing from the car and slamming the door shut a little harder than he had meant to. Disappearing from his sight into the dark as Dean walked the length of the car slowly to the trunk; Sam heard the latch holding the lid to the hidden weapon's compartment shut give way, and then heard the heavy thud of what was quite obviously Dean's duffel hit the ground. Feeling the car shake as the trunk was securely closed back up, Sam finally climbed from the silent interior of the vehicle and deeply breathed in the unseasonably warm, refreshingly clean, late December air; thankful that the nighttime lows hadn't dropped below fifty in the last few days and weren't expected to tonight as well.

"You remember how to use that?" Dean asked his little brother as he shoved a fully loaded 9MM into his hand, the weapon containing the finest silver bullets that scammed credit card money could buy. Well, maybe not the bullets, but the silver that his brother had used to make them anyway.

"Yeah Dean, just point and pull. It's not rocket science," Sam grumbled at Dean's seemingly lack of confidence in his shooting abilities. It hadn't been that long since he'd held a firearm in his hands and it really was like riding a bike anyway. Some things you just never forget, especially when John Winchester was the one teaching them to you.

"No, but it could end up being brain surgery, in a weird sort of way," Dean tried to joke back, sensing the slight hint of irritation in his little brother's tone and he was almost convinced he could hear Sam's eyes roll when he said it.

It had been too many long months since Dean had seen his brother and this was not how he had envisioned their next reunion to be. No, he'd planned on it being in some nice, loud, college-town bar filled with plenty of booze and blondes as the two of them joked and laughed and got drunk together before stumbling back to either Sam's dorm or Dean's motel room to pass out, allowing him to momentarily forget what his lonely existence was all about now that Sam wasn't really a part of his life anymore. This was far from that though as he stood there in the dimly, moonlit night listening to his brother's somewhat huffed breathing and knowing Sam's piercing stare was trained directly on him, even in the dark and wishing he had never had to come to his little brother for help in the first place.

"Uh Dean… are you waiting for your big, furry friend to come carjack us or are you gonna lead the way into the trees since you're the only one that knows where we're going?" Sam casually asked his brother without the slightest hint of annoyance in his voice anymore as he tapped him on the shoulder when it seemed that Dean's mind had wandered way out elsewhere for the moment; the far away, blank stare his older brother had suddenly taken on starting to bother him. He knew there was something wrong with Dean; he just couldn't put a finger on what… yet. He told himself he would figure it out before the night was through though, because in all honesty, he usually always did.

"Yeah, come on. Let's get this over with," he said with the subtle shake of his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs out of it. Slinging the heavy bag over his shoulder with a barely audible but obviously visible grunt, he made his way into the dense forest of trees that seemed to be anxiously awaiting their arrival.

As the full moon rose higher and higher into the sky, it cast an eerie glow on his brother's hunched back and Sam couldn't help but notice from his position several feet behind that Dean stomped through the thick brush entirely too heavy footed, heedless of how much noise he was making as he trudged on further and further into the forest making no attempts at concealing their presence from anyone or anything that may be watching or listening. They advanced deeper and deeper into the trees without saying a word to one another until Sam finally saw Dean stop dead in his tracks at the edge of what looked like a clearing from Sam's spot numerous feet to the rear. He picked up his pace to cut the distance he had let spread a little too wide between them and was surprised to hear that even after standing totally motionless for the last couple minutes as Sam caught up, Dean was still somewhat out of breath with his face bathed in sweat. Sam hadn't found the hike in to be all that arduous; he himself barely breaking a sweat and he added Dean's lack of stamina to the growing list of things already starting to concern him.

"This is it," Dean managed to breathe out as he dropped what Sam thought had been the heavy duffel hanging on his shoulder until it landed on the ground and he started rummaging through its sparse contents, which meant the bag weighed barely anything at all. Finding what he was looking for relatively quickly and shoving the pair of night vision goggles he had safely tucked away in his bag immediately into 

Sam's hands when he located them and pulled them out, Dean pointed up the lone, tall tree that stood nearly dead center of the clearing they were now standing in. "Take those up that tree and keep your eyes peeled. When you see something, you shout and I'll shoot."

Sam stood there for the moment at a total loss for words, staring into his brother's face incredulously, unwilling to believe what he thought he had just heard him say. "You seriously expect me to hang out in that tree all night while you plan on doing what, exactly? Roam around down here on the forest floor as bait? Dean, I didn't come all the way out here to sit on a branch like a friggin' squirrel chewing on a nut waiting for you to make the forest safe from evil like some kind of werewolf hunting Robin Hood."

"Don't be an ass Sam, it's a brilliant plan. First of all, I wouldn't be caught dead in a pair of green tights and secondly, with you up there scoping out the area, you'll be able to see anything coming long before it ever gets anywhere near me AND you can tell me what direction it's gonna be coming at me from. Point and pull, remember? It's the safest way for you to back me up. There's no reason we both need to be potential sapien steaks, is there? Come on Sammy, if you've got a better idea, I'm all ears," Dean quickly explained his logic and as much as Sam didn't want to admit it, he knew his brother was right, even if his well thought out plan had been concocted mainly to keep Sam as far away from any real action as he possibly could. Sam did have to agree, they would have a distinct advantage if they could see it coming well before they had to encounter it and Sam's face totally gave his thoughts away. "Ahh… see Sammy, you know I'm right. I can see it in your eyes."

"Shut up jerk," Sam said with a pout; his lips pursed so tightly together they weren't really even visible to Dean anymore and all he could do was chuckle when he saw his brother's face now that he had reverted to using facial expressions that would normally get him his way when he was ten. Too bad Sam wasn't ten anymore.

"Start climbing bitch," Dean jokingly shot back with a wide-mouthed grin, the quick wink of an eye as raised his eyebrows before pointing straight up.

Without saying another word, Sam turned away from his brother and silently started the short climb up and over the various thick limbs like an agile monkey until he was about halfway up the trunk, his long arms and legs making quick work of the thick trunk and branches, until he was sitting comfortably on one of the larger boughs with his back resting against the thick base. He was surprised that, from the position he had taken, he had a relatively unobstructed view of the entire area and once again had to admit to himself his brother had probably been right.

"Hey, you find a spot to cop a squat yet Tarzan?" Dean called into the dark when he didn't hear anymore movement coming from above him.

"A little louder Dean, I don't think the entire forest quite heard you," he sarcastically called back down to the normally stealthy hunter that was making absolutely no attempts at hiding their presence. "Why don't you just put up a big, neon sign that says 'Dinner is served' with an arrow pointing at yourself?"

"Bite me Sam," Dean ironically shouted back up, once again not even bothering to lower the tone of his voice. He knew full well it didn't matter how loud he was because it wasn't his voice that would draw the beast to them, it was the scent. His scent. It would come for him, of that he had no doubt. All he could do now was sit and wait, praying he was up to the challenge. "You got a good view from up there?"

"Yeah… dude, these goggles are awesome. I can see everything through them," Sam shouted back, figuring that if Dean didn't feel the need to be quiet, neither did he.

"Good. The moon's up now so keep your eyes peeled. Somehow I'm doubting we're gonna have to wait too long," Dean mindlessly commented in a loud tone at first but trailing off to end it in a very hushed one instead, preferring to keep the latter part of what he had said more to himself.

With Sam perched up a tree and safely out of harm's way for the most part, Dean palmed his chrome Colt 1911 with the ivory handle in one hand as he braced himself against the tree Sam was pulling guard duty in with the other and slowly slid his aching body down it until he was firmly planted on the hard ground before taking and expelling a deep breath as he rested his back and head against the rough bark with his eyes closed. He didn't know what was more exhausting, trudging through the forest in search of a wild, supernaturally charged man-eating beast or keeping up appearances for his brother's sake. As the silence fell over him like a heavy blanket and any adrenaline rush he may have had faded, he couldn't fight his exhaustion anymore and within a few short minutes he had actually fallen asleep, confident that Sam would shout enough like a girl to wake him when the time came.

Sam made cursory scans of the area for barely an hour when something caught his eye at the edge of the tree line when he made his latest sweep, the sight causing the hairs on the back of his neck to instantly stand at attention when he realized it was more than just the wind and too big to be just a 

raccoon. Climbing carefully to his feet, he continued to watch as the movement approached slowly, as if trying to go unnoticed.

"Dean… something's coming," he whispered loud enough for at least his brother to hear but frowned when he got no response. "Dean… where are you?"

It wasn't Sam's voice that jarred Dean from his light sleep but the bone-chilling howl that echoed throughout the night as all other nocturnal sounds ceased to exist and within seconds he was awake and on high alert, finally responding to his brother's warnings with a one word question as his self-preservation instincts kicked fully in and he was up on his feet faster than he could speak. "Where?"

"Three o'clock," Sam called down and Dean instantly turned his body to the right with his sights trained down the length of his arm and off into the thick brush.

It tore through the trees with a purpose, the very long, very sharp teeth that were exposed by the menacing snarl reflecting the now bright moonlight that had started to light up the forest floor and for some strange reason Dean just froze in place, seemingly unable to pull the trigger as his eyes met those of the black beast advancing on him until he heard the shot ring out from high above his head. Hearing the pain-riddled wail that replaced the intimidating howl ringing sharply in his ears after the lone crack of gunfire echoed in his head somehow broke him from his trance and he knew he had to move fast.

Rushing to the monster now sprawled out on the ground drooling blood and panting, he wasted no time aiming his pistol directly at the beast's chest and fired over and over until his gun held no more ammo, the bullets tearing one hole after another through fur, flesh and bone and sending blood, gore and chunks of hair in various different directions. Dean was totally mesmerized by the sight before him and could do nothing but kneel next to the now dead body on the ground and watch it turn from the beast he had just ended to an amazingly striking young woman who could be no older then eighteen. An amazingly striking young woman that was now dead by his hand. He was oblivious to Sam's presence next to him until he felt his brother's gigantic paw firmly on his shoulder as he spoke to him in a soft, calming voice.

"I think you got it this time," he stated rather triumphantly for Dean who just continued to stare.

"Yeah, I think you're right," was all Dean could muster the energy to say as he turned and walked away in the direction of the duffel he'd deposited underneath the tree and started rummaging through it again, the heavy clank of something metallic hitting the ground causing Sam to frown. He held that frown as his brother approached him and he could clearly tell by the look in Dean's eyes that he knew exactly what his brother was going to say even before he said it. "Head back to the car and I'll meet you there Sam. I need to clean up this mess myself."

"No you don't Dean, I'll…" Sam started to say but his brother cut him off before he got any farther.

"I want to do it myself. Please Sam, just head back to the car and wait there and let me burn the bodies myself," he told him again, this time tossing him the keys before turning his back to his baby brother and marching back in the direction of the body lying naked and dead on the ground. He listened carefully as Sam sighed but made no other sounds and from the corner of his eye he watched his shoulders slump as he began the trip return trip back to the car without saying another word in protest. This was obviously something Dean felt obligated to do and as much as he wanted to help him get it over with, he decided to let him do it.

The walk out had taken a little longer than the walk in as this time Sam was in no real hurry, until the chiming on his watch told him that it was only nine o'clock. Still early enough to maybe hit a bar with his big brother to celebrate a job easily done for a change and maybe spend some quality time together since he was actually here. He had had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach the second he had seen Dean at his door that the night wasn't going to end on a pleasant note but he was now starting to let that feeling go when he caught sight of the car waiting patiently for them as he stepped through the last grouping of trees and back out into the open air. Unlocking the passenger door and climbing inside to take his designated position at shotgun, he slid the key in the ignition, rested his head against the seat and waited for his brother to finish what had obviously been started just to please their old man.

That thought was the one that threatened to turn Sam's good mood into a foul one, the thought of Dean always trying to please their unpleasable father. He always obeyed every order the man gave him without question; he always did everything his father ever asked him to, and he hated the fact that Dean felt like he had to take this particular burden onto himself and finish what they had both clearly screwed up on just to appease the stubborn man who obviously decided not to help shoulder the blame of a botched hunt. He also hated the fact that their father treated Dean like some dirty disease when he was disappointed in him and that was what bothered him more than anything else. John knew all too well where to hit Dean where it hurts the most and for that, he almost hated his father.

Feeling his anger start to grow, he pushed the thoughts of John Winchester as far from his mind as he possibly could and refocused on the natural high he had felt when they had taken care of Dean's little problem and eliminated yet another monster from the world unscathed. He was starting to get that happy feeling back when he saw the trees moving to his left and glancing at his watch, he saw that he had been sitting there for over an hour waiting for Dean to take care of that body so it would never be found. Seeing him break the tree line and come at the car in a hurried trot, he threw the Chevy's heavy door open and nearly sprinted to his brother when he saw the mess he had become.

"Jesus Christ Dean, what the hell happened to you?" Sam nearly screamed into his brother's blackened face as he approached him quickly, ripping the nearly empty bag off his shoulder as Dean stopped where he stood for a second, bent over and rested his hands on his knees and took in a few deep breaths now that he was breathing like he had just ran a marathon. His face was covered with dirt and soot and the sheen of sweat that had broken out across his forehead in his run had only made the already filthy mess even filthier now that it was wet. The closer Sam looked, he thought for sure he could see Dean's eyebrows were singed slightly as well and now he really wanted to know what his brother had done after he had been forced to leave him behind. "What the hell is going on?"

"I thought I heard someone coming so I took off after shoveling the last few piles of dirt into hole I dug to burn those bodies in," he told his brother, still somewhat out of breath but catching it quickly.

"That doesn't explain why you look like you just climbed out of a coal mine," Sam asked suspiciously, hearing the distinct sound of a tin can rolling around in the duffel he was holding on to.

"Yeah… that. I didn't want to be standing around all night waiting for the fire to die out so I decided to make it really hot in the first place. Remind me to never do that again with an entire can of gasoline, will ya? I think I burned out all my nose hairs with that one," he snorted in amusement, finally finding the energy to stand. "You ready to head back, 'cuz I sure as hell am?"

"I was ready an hour ago," Sam casually commented back before opening the rear, passenger side door to toss the bag into the back. Getting ready to climb back into his spot in the front, Dean stopped him before he could even get the door open and jangled he keys in his face with an interesting look plastered on his face.

"That goes in the trunk, little brother," he coyly reminded Sam of the Impala's storage protocol as he forced the key into Sam's hand, then shot him another interesting look that Sam had no words to describe as Dean spoke again. "You wanna drive?"

"What? Did you just ask me if I wanna drive? Holy shit, hell has frozen over!" Sam was totally shocked by the question and even more shocked by his brother's lack of any response. Dean let him drive only on the rarest of occasions, and usually they were prompted by same thing that made him grind his teeth nearly flat. Only this time, he didn't see any of that tension pulsating through a clenched jaw anymore, just the tired look that was left in his eyes after what Sam could only assume had been a very long day.

Without saying another word, Sam grabbed the duffel he'd thrown into the back, threw it in the trunk and jumped behind the wheel before his brother could change his mind and had the Chevy started and ready to go before Dean even moved from the spot he was standing in. Sam watched him start towards the car and couldn't help but notice how slow he moved, each step he took coming with that slight limp to it again. When he finally sat himself in the seat next to the anxious young man behind the wheel and let out a heavy breath, Sam couldn't help but ask the question that annoyed him to no end.

"Dean, are you sure you're alright?" The concern was subtle, but it was there and Dean wanted nothing more to squash it right now.

"For the millionth time Sam, I'm fine. Will you please stop asking now?"

"Ok, crabass," was all he said before dropping the transmission into drive and spinning the tires before he pulled back out onto the pavement, annoying Dean in an entirely different way when he did it.

The ride north had been made in less time than the initial ride south, each minute being spent listening to Dean's own music selections as opposed to Sam's while Dean rested his head against the window and closed his eyes to let his mind wander as Sam drove, the sound of his little brother's voice breaking the verbal silence once they were safely back at the dorm startling him out of his nearly dreamlike state.

"Hey Dean, it's only midnight. The bar across the street is open until two. Think we could get a beer or something before we crash for the night?" Sam asked him in a semi-beg, still wanting to celebrate their victory and knowing if he got a few into his brother, he might loosen up enough to talk.

Had this been another day and time, he would have readily jumped at the suggestion, but right now he wasn't sure he could sit very long on a bar stool and pretend everything was normal. Unfortunately for him though, he had to keep his game face on because he had absolutely no intentions of letting his 

brother in on his little secret, the little secret he had brought with him that was threatening to make itself known. In fact, he had no intentions of letting anyone in on his little secret. He would force himself to stay awake and alert for a couple more hours to please Sam if that's what it took, then he would check into a motel and drop like the rock he felt like for a couple days before heading back to wherever his father would be and nobody would ever know he had screwed up yet again.

"I guess so. Can I grab a shower first?" Dean had to ask since he was sitting in his car covered in filth from the neck up.

"Probably a good idea," Sam agreed as he turned off the engine and tossed Dean the keys. "Grab your gear and I'll show you where you can grab a shower.

Taking in a deep breath before climbing out of the car, Dean dragged his heavy body to the trunk and pulled out his bag with most of his clothing in it, the tossing of it over his shoulder eliciting a slight hiss that Sam had been too far away to hear. Turning on his heels to follow his little brother back into the dorm, he stayed far enough behind to make sure he had enough control of himself to make it up the stairs. Wandering as close to his brother as he dared to get, he spied the couches in the common area and dropped down hard onto one of them before turning his eyes up to Sam's, who had landed on his face rather curiously.

"Any chance you got a clean towel?" He tried averting the gaze by resting his head against the back and waited for his brother to answer him, his brother that had clearly started to see through his façade.

"There's a towel in my room, grab it on your way to the shower. It's down the hall on the left two doors beyond mine. Hurry up man, will ya? A beer sounds like a little bit of heaven right now," Sam's answer to Dean's question had been issued as almost a challenge and Dean reluctantly accepted it as he slowly stood and ambled down the hall to his brother's room. Sam watched as he disappeared inside barely long enough to sneeze before coming back out again and continued his walk down the hall, the sound of his name behind him turning his attention away from Dean's gait and onto the voice coming from behind him.

"Hey Sam, what are you doing here?" She asked him curiously and he recognized who it came from before he even turned around. "I thought you were heading to Jess'."

"Hey Penny," he stated back as she gave him a big hug. "I'm not heading to Jess' until Sunday. Just hanging around with my brother tonight."

"Your brother? Your brother is here?" Penny questioned with a little flash of excitement in her eyes.

"Yeah, he surprised me with a visit. We're gonna hit the bar after he showers if you wanna join us."

"I just might do that. I've heard so much about Dean I feel like I already know him," she nearly gushed at the mention of the older brother's presence. "I was supposed to get up early tomorrow to head home, but what the hell; I don't need that much sleep."

The two of them stood and chatted away the long minutes that went by waiting for Dean to emerge fresh from the shower and Sam had finally decided to just sit down after the longest time had gone by when he realized his brother wasn't going to hurry up like he had so nicely asked him to. No, Dean had probably decided to use all the hot water in the tank before coming out, which could take quite a while here. Taking the lead from Sam, Penny decided to join him on the couch, until her eyes caught something marring the light brown fabric next to the spot he was sitting on.

"What the hell is that? I think there's blood on the couch?" She asked, rather surprised not only by the sight of the stain but by the look of sheer panic that had suddenly come across Sam's face when it registered what she had just said. "Who would do that and not clean it up?"

Looking at the exact spot Penny was pointing to, Sam pressed a finger into the red splotch that had seeped into the fabric and wasn't the least bit surprised to see his fingers had come away wet. That blood was fresh, very fresh and Sam knew exactly where it had come from the moment he saw it. Rising quickly to his feet and bolting down the hall, his one word he uttered said it all.

"Dean…"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Dean…" Sam's quietly uttered, one word statement said it all as he found himself racing down the hall to the showers on sheer instinct alone, his forward momentum barely slowing as he burst through the door and never once realizing it had slammed shut in Penny's face right behind him. Scanning the entire space in a matter of seconds, he could hear the echo of water running in the empty room but saw no sign of his brother.

"Dean," he called out at full volume this time in a near frantic tone, hoping to get the quick and rather belligerent response the elder brother would have normally shot back at him when he felt Sam was invading his personal space but, much to his dismay, was answered with nothing Starting down the long line of stalls to his right, he cautiously pushed lightly on each stall's outer door one by one to find the first four unoccupied. The deeper into the room he found himself, the louder the sounds from the spray of a showerhead became and he knew when he stepped in front of the last stall in the line that he'd find exactly what he was looking for once he worked up the courage to take a peek.

With an unsteady finger, he cringed at the groaned creak the door mocked him with when he gently pushed against it and was surprised to find that it gave way easily, the thought that his brother hadn't bothered to lock it not going ignored. As the sounds of beating water came closer and closer with each advancing step forward he took, he peered inside the small, enclosed area and he couldn't stop the somersault his stomach made when his eyes fell directly onto the rim of what was probably a large pool of water forming just behind the inner curtain that had started seeping outward and snaked its way to the outer, overflow drain. The tiny streams that Sam was sure branched off from a larger lake were streaked with varying shades of red all the way back to their point of origin that was still hidden from his view and as he took in a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, he drew the curtain partially back to take a better look at what he was sure he didn't really want to see on the other side.

Even with the inner shower area still somewhat obscured by the half-pulled away curtain, Sam's worst fears were being confirmed one by one when he saw the ever-growing pool of bloody water the body huddled up on the floor was sitting in. There his brother sat with his back facing Sam's wide eyes as water pounded against his head and torso, his body naked and shivering with his knees pulled tightly up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs in somewhat of an upright ball; his bunched up, six plus foot frame covering most of the inner drain that was preventing the crimson-stained flow of water from escaping down into the sewers.

Peeling the plastic barrier between his brother and himself back slightly further to reveal just a little more of Dean's trembling body, Sam finally found the source of the bloody tributaries when his eyes followed the darkest stream up to his brother's left side and to the gaping hole just below his ribcage that bled freely now that there was nothing to staunch it. Reaching in to crank the handle that would put an end to what the younger brother could only assume was a frigid barrage of water coming from the head up above by the way Dean shivered where he was planted, Sam's stomach lurched slightly again when he felt that the temperature of said water was quite comfortable by shower standards, maybe even hot still.

"Sam, what the hell you'd do that for?" Dean's shaky voice echoed through the room as he broke the silence, the anger he tried to relay in his tone sorely missing as he spoke in more of a pained whine, "… and what the hell are you doing in here? Can't you see I'm trying to take a shower?"

Ignoring his brother's partially slurred questions, Sam grabbed the towel that had been tossed over the bar holding the curtain in place and draped it over Dean's trembling shoulders, the heat his body was producing more than likely not coming from the water that was no longer streaming down on him. Biting his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, he asked his brother the question that begged for an answer.

"Oh god Dean, please tell me that that hole in your side isn't from a bite," he nearly pleaded to the older man as he lowered himself down onto one knee and braced himself for a response.

"It's not a bite Sammy, just a scratch," was the blessed reply he got and the sigh of relief that came out of Sam's lips was clearly audible to the elder brother's ears. "You think I'd a come here if that'd been a bite?"

"Just a scratch? You call that 'just a scratch'?" Sam barked at Dean's lackadaisical comment when the initial shock wore off as he wiped the remaining blood away with the corner of the towel covering his brother to examine the wound a little more closely, ignoring the harsh hiss that the injured man couldn't help but let out, the entire side of his body wincing away at the unwanted contact. With a clearer view of the damage that had been done, Sam could see the deep perforation in his brother's skin and muscle not only ripped to shreds at the edges but starting to turn a strange shade of yellow and green inside. 

Flanked on either side by matching tears in the mottled flesh, and although not as deep as the puncture wound itself, they did stretch from the lower half of his side down to his hip and had also started showing early signs of infection.

"Claws from a paw, so technically just a scratch, little brother," was the lighthearted comment Dean shot back, clearly hearing the concern in Sam's voice and trying to make light of what he himself knew to be a rather delicate situation. He had hoped to make it back to his motel alone before ever progressing to this point, but apparently his body had other plans.

"Who stitched this up for you… and when did you even get it anyway because this sure as hell isn't fresh and I know for a fact that thing didn't get anywhere near you before you shot it? Spill it Dean, what happened?" Sam demanded while he looked in all different directions for Dean's duffel as he pressed the towel down a little harder, hoping the direct pressure would put an end the steady bleeding.

"I did, yesterday… and yeah, I already know I did a piss-poor job so spare me the lecture. It's not like it was in the easiest spot to get to," Dean answered his brother as explanatorily as he possibly could to avoid any further discussion and waited for the next string of questions he knew would inevitably come.

"Ok… yesterday. You got these yesterday how, exactly?" Sam asked again, refusing to let the topic go but putting his thoughts on hold when he finally noticed the heavy pounding on the door leading back into the hall, the door that he had rather rudely left Penny on the other side of.

"Sam, what's going on in there?" She called into the dorm bathroom rather loudly through the crack she had just opened, her tone of voice threatening that she would come inside should Sam not readily answer her.

"Wait here," Sam ordered his brother as he wrapped the blood-soiled towel back around his shoulders and stood, not wanting to leave Dean but needing to address the problem at the door.

"Where'm I gonna go?" Dean huffed his response as he buried his face back into his knees where it had been before Sam had bothered him, perfectly content to just sit there until the end of time if it meant he didn't have to actually move any inch of his pain-racked body.

Sam took off for the entryway in a near sprint to head the concerned, young woman off and easily stopped her before she could make it all the way into the men's room, knowing that she couldn't see a thing from her position but really not caring as he cut her view of anything off with his own body. Sam knew there was no way of explaining what was happening down that hall and didn't even want to have to try.

"What the hell is going on in here Sam? I've been pounding on that door since it hit me in the nose when you nearly broke it off its hinges," she urgently questioned, desperate for an answer.

"My brother's sick… really sick," he started to tell her, the response only fueling the fires of her curiosity more than they already were.

"Can I help him?" She interrupted his words and thoughts as she tried to slide past the much taller man and into the room, but even in his near panicked state, Sam was far too quick for her. Blocking her way inside, he looked directly into her eyes and silently told her that the inner area of the room was totally off-limits. Slinking back out into the hall, she stared up at him with a sympathetic gaze and put out her offer. "What can I do?"

"Would you go back to my room and grab a couple towels and the blanket from my bed, please? Don't bring them in though, Dean's not exactly in a position that he'd want anyone to see him in… even me," he asked her, gladly taking her up on her offer of assistance.

Nodding her head in understanding, Penny turned from the door and made her way down the hall as Sam turned and made his own way back to his brother, who hadn't voluntarily moved a muscle in the entire time Sam had been gone. Noticing for the first time that Dean's bag rested in the corner of the stall under the built in seat behind the wide-opened door, he started tearing through it for what he hoped his brother had been smart enough to bring up from the car with him.

"Where's the first aid kit Dean," he had to finally ask when he didn't see it amidst the mass of unorganized clothing that had been shoved into the bag.

"Over there… on the shelf," he whispered as he barely raised his head, it seemingly too heavy for his neck to hold up anymore.

Turning to his side, Sam could see that the kit was indeed lying open on the small ledge that was normally reserved for bottles of shampoo and soaps next to him, the suture kit already open and ready for use. Shaking his head at his brother's quivering form and wondering how Dean planned on re-stitching that hole up himself in his current condition, he grabbed the supplies and dropped back down next to him, searching the kit for something even more important than the sutures themselves but coming up totally 

empty.

"Dean, where's the holy water?"

"Don't have any."

"Why not? Dad always makes us keep it in the kit, so why don't you have any in here? Did you use it all yesterday?"

"Sorry little brother, I didn't have any yesterday and I still don't have any now," Dean reluctantly answered, the verbal chastising that was poised and ready to fly sounding more like his father then his brother when it was launched.

"God damn it Dean, how am I supposed to clean this out properly without it? No wonder it's already infected. What the hell were you thinking? Didn't you double check the kit before you took off? You never go after a werewolf with no holy water for exactly this reason," he angrily strung the questions together, not expecting an answer to any of them, their purpose being more of a harsh reminder then actual questions needing to be answered.

"Don't yell at me Sam, please. I didn't know it wasn't in there until I looked for it yesterday and by then it was too late. Just stitch me back up and let me sleep it off, ok?"

"Stitch it back up, huh? Sleep it off, huh? You know what's coming, right?" He rolled his eyes and if Sam didn't know any better, he'd swear Dean actually heard it when he saw him cower slightly. "You seemed fine when you got here, so when did you tear that thing back open, anyway?"

"Your pal Jason tore one or two when he body slammed me. That was no big deal until the rest of them gave way when I was burning those damn bodies. Gasoline knocked me right on my ass when I lit it and that was that," he answered, flipping a finger at the first aid kit that was no longer sitting where Dean pointed before finishing his statement. "I was gonna take care of that myself, you know, until you barged in here."

"I'll bet you were. Wait a second… bodies? Did you just say bodies?" Sam shockingly asked, not quite sure he heard his brother right or if Dean had simply misspoken.

"Did I say what?" Dean's voice was hushed and barely audible anymore as his body started its inevitable slide to the right now that his brain decided that gravity was becoming too much to fight anymore and wanting nothing more than to just rest his head against something other than thin air. Before Sam could open his mouth to respond, he heard the incessant pounding on the door again and after slowly guiding Dean's upper half down to the floor before he fell there on his own and cracked his skull on the unforgiving tile, he raced back to the door to answer it.

"Two towels and one blanket," she announced as she thrust them in and waited for Sam to take them, which he readily did. "What else can I do?"

"Watch the door and don't let anyone in while I try to get him dressed."

"Sam, are you sure you don't need any help in there?" She asked her question again, trying to get a look inside through the barely opened door.

"No, I've got it. Just wait there until I can get him on his feet. I may need your help getting him back my room though," he told her as he closed the door and wished it had a lock, hoping she wouldn't decide to follow.

Returning to his brother's side and not sure whether to be thankful or irritated that he had for the most part passed out, Sam draped one of the clean towels over Dean's lower half to cover him and rolled up the other to place under his head while he pulled the bloodied towel from off his shoulders. When pressing hard against the oozing hole to sop up what fluid remained did nothing to garner a reaction from what Sam thought to be an unconscious man, he hesitantly prepared himself to begin the task of stitching his brother's ripped flesh back together. Drawing in a deep breath, he could clearly hear Dean trying to stifle a quiet moan when he pinched the wound closed and knew that his brother was anything but unconscious.

"This is bad Dean," Sam softly told him as he laid beneath his hands on the now cold floor while his brother's body started shaking again from what had to be fever-induced chills. The sight of not just blood seeping from the laceration as he squeezed it edges closed made Sam wonder if he should be stitching that hole closed at all. "Without any holy water to clean this…"

"Figures," he mumbled right back to shut Sam up, not wanting to hear what he already knew; his body tensing when he felt Sam bury the needle into his already throbbing skin. He grit his teeth tightly together as his baby brother placed the first stitch, then sucked in a full mouthful of air through those clenched teeth for the second, but couldn't contain the cry of pain that forced its way out when Sam dug in for the third, his body mindlessly trying to creep away from Sam every time he touched him. Knowing he had 

many more sutures to go before that hole was closed, Sam knew he had to distract Dean somehow since he didn't seem to be able to distract himself.

"So, you gonna tell me how you really got this?" He asked as casually as possible, keeping his tone calm and collected and hoping Dean would be able to do the same.

"I didn't just scope the place out yesterday," was all he could say as Sam started on stitch number six, the agony of the widest part of the wound being brutally pulled back together almost too much for him to bear as he growled somewhat while he beat a fist hard against the floor.

"I'm halfway there Dean, just relax and let me finish," Sam tried to sound sympathetic but only succeeded in sounding guilty, the thought that what he was doing was causing most of that new pain. "So, you didn't just scope the place out. What happened?"

"She clawed me, that's what happened," was stated in more of a groan then a voice making Sam pretty sure Dean wasn't going to be talking much more.

"You said 'bodies' Dean. Why did you say that," he tried to ask his brother as he drove the needle home for stitch number nine but it was clear that Dean was done, his mind focusing what little energy it still had on keeping his body still down on that floor while his brother unwillingly yet necessarily tortured him. Sam finished the last three stitches as quickly as he could when he saw that Dean was now holding his breath just waiting for the agony to end.

"All done," he thought he vaguely heard and only when Sam finally said those two little words he'd been dying to hear did he expel all the air in his lungs and tried to breathe normally again, the feeling of Sam pressing the last couple pieces of tape against his side draining all of anything that he may have had left. "Can you sit up and put some clothes on? I can't take you out of here butt-ass naked."

"Why not? Who'd notice?" Dean had to ask with a voice muffled by the balled up towel that was acting as a pillow, just the thought of exerting the energy to put on clothes exhausting him even more than he already was.

"Penny would notice, that's who," Sam informed him, clearly stating that they were not alone.

"Who's Penny?" Dean picked his head up to look in his brother's direction and inquired, his interest suddenly peaked.

"My friend that's very impatiently waiting just outside for us to come out now that she knows you're in here and sicker than a dog," Sam added to his all too brief explanation.

"Is she hot?" Dean looked Sam in the eye with his own rather glassy ones and waggled his brows as he asked the question, grinning sheepishly when he did.

"Dean, you've been ripped to shreds by a friggin' werewolf, have a pretty high fever judging by not only the heat coming from your body but how bad those chills are that you're doing your best to hide and can barely sit up and you're asking me if Penny's hot?"

"Priorities Sammy… priorities. Chicks dig it when you're wounded, makes them all Florence Nightingale-like," he shared his warped logic with his little brother, who clearly did not agree.

"Dean, you have the strangest sense of priorities I've ever seen. Now, can you get up off the floor and put some clothes on because I have a feeling it's gonna be a long night and I think we'd be better off spending it in my room instead of on the bathroom floor," Sam told him as he turned to gather up the scattered medical supplies he had strewn about, tossing the gauze, tape, and antibacterial ointment back into the kit and laughing to himself at the thought of why he had wasted it. That stuff wouldn't work on Dean's particular brand of wound anyway.

"Uh, Sam… I think I'm gonna need some help in that department. My head seems to be stuck to the floor," Dean hated to say it, but he really didn't think he could pick his head up off the towel. It was just too heavy and he was far too tired.

"Can you move your arms and legs?" Sam questioned him next as he tried to figure out how he would get his brother back to his room if he couldn't ad was now nothing but dead weight.

"Don't think so, but I'll try."

"Try hard Dean because I don't think I can carry you without pulling at those stitches I just put in and I don't think you want them placed a third time, do you?"

"Didn't even want them the first time, little brother."

"Hey Dean, I hate to say it, but maybe I should just call Dad. He can prob…" Sam made the suggestion as just that, only a suggestion, but the thought it conjured up in the wounded man's already cloudy head was like a hot poker of clarity being driven into his back which forced him to sit upright a little faster than his head and stomach would have liked him to, leaving one to throb and the other to churn.

"No, don't call Dad," Dean cut him off and with a surge of energy that had come from out of nowhere, he 

dragged his entire body up and out of the shower stall so that he was at least sitting on the small bench in the outer, dressing area. "Just give me some clothes, will ya?"

"Your bag's at your feet," Sam gently pointed out, but Dean made no effort to reach down and grab for it.

"If I bend down, I won't get back up. Help me help you help me Sammy, please," Dean rested his head against the wall behind him and chuckled at his pathetic attempt at humor, he himself being the only one to find anything amusing at the off-the-wall movie quote that had a slight Dean twist to it.

"You're such an ass," was all Sam found he could say back as he threw a clean towel over Dean's naked lap before bending down to drag his bag out from under the very seat his brother was sitting on.

"Yeah, but I'm a cute ass," he joked as Sam ignored the comment and started digging through the duffel without a clue as to what was clean and what wasn't. Settling on a semi-wrinkled t-shirt and a relatively fresh looking pair of boxers, he tossed the garments at his brother and waited patiently as Dean did his best to put them on. The boxers had pretty much done him in as instead of bending over to slide his feet through the legs he pulled his legs up to his body, the stretching of the skin tugging on the freshly placed stitches causing him to cringe. With that chore thankfully out of the way, Sam had to help him with the shirt when he couldn't seem to pull it over his own head, but once he was finally half-dressed, Sam slung his brother's bag over his shoulder and held out a hand to him, a hand that he couldn't really focus on with his head now hanging to the side and his eyes closed, his entire face now covered in sweat.

"Come on Dean, stay with it just a little longer. I can't get you down the hall by myself, not without hurting you and the last thing I want is Penny to see is that gaping hole torn open again."

"Yeah, I'm coming," he mumbled as he opened one eye and spied Sam's hand in his face, the effort it took just to grab it more than he thought he had.

On unsteady legs Dean stood as Sam wrapped the blanket Penny had given him around his shoulders, leaving one arm exposed for the shaking man to drape around Sam's neck as he held the blanket closed with the other, doing his best to cover his bare legs. Trying to hold Dean up without aggravating his wounds would prove to be difficult and as Sam wrapped his own arm around Dean's waist to support him, he could feel his body tense as he sucked in a hard breath and held it again. Readjusting his arms position across his brother's damaged side and back, he slowly started guiding Dean in the direction of the exit when he heard him expel the air and start to breathe again. Both brothers took short, clumsy steps down the long hall but eventually reached the door without having to stop once.

With the incredibly long, free arm he still had, Sam grasped the door handle the instant it was within his generous reach and pulled in a quick motion so they wouldn't need to stop their forward progress. Had it not been for the rising heat coming from his brother's body or the way his head rested heavily on his shoulder, Sam probably would have laughed at the site of Penny spilling into the room, her ear clearly pressed against the door the entire time the men had been inside. Quickly regaining her feet and composure, she saw the Dean Winchester his little brother boasted about and was in utter shock at what was now standing before her. Unable to stand on his own, unable to lift his head off his brother's shoulder and bathed in sweat, he was most definitely not what she had pictured.

"Is it the flu? Does he have the flu Sam?" She asked the obvious as she grabbed hold of Dean's elbow, trying to take some of the weight herself so Sam didn't have to bear it all.

"You could say that," he tossed her a confirming response, knowing full well that just about everything they had to look forward to could easily be attributed to that particularly nasty viral infection.

Trudging their way down the hallway back to Sam's room, Penny kicked the door that she had left ajar open fully, allowing Sam to breeze right past her and with his bed blessedly in sight, he gently lowering Dean down onto it into a seated position. Sitting next to him to keep him from slumping in either direction, Sam grabbed the bottle of water atop his nightstand and twisted off the cap, knowing full well he had to get as many fluids into Dean's body as he could now because he would get nothing into him later. Pressing the plastic against his brother's lips, Dean just tried shoving it away with a feeble hand and his attitudinal bark of defiance made Penny nearly jump.

"Get that out of my face Sam," he forcefully ordered, his voice holding more authority then his hands. Trying desperately to just fall backwards into the fluffy mattress underneath him, Sam started putting up his fight.

"Dean, you need water before you dehydrate."

"What I need is for you to leave me alone and let me sleep," he continued his uncooperativeness now that he knew what Sam didn't. He was well beyond the point of putting anything into his stomach now that wouldn't come right back up.

"But werewo…" the concerned younger brother started to say, cutting himself off when he realized 

Penny was standing mere feet from them both and allowing Dean to win the argument solely for the sake of not being able to have it at all. "Please, just try to drink some water and then I'll let you sleep."

Jerking the bottle out of Sam's hand, Dean shook his head and just drank what he thought would be a safe amount, nearly dropping the bottle into his lap when he was finished. Grabbing it before it fell, Sam recapped it and placed it back onto the table before helping Dean's head find the pillow, the warm water now churning in his stomach almost as uncomfortable as the pressure he was putting on his freshly stitched left side. Rolling his body to the left to take the brunt of his weight onto the right and bending his knees up slightly, he closed both eyes and tried his best to finally fall asleep as the wolves poison declared war on his already compromised body.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Yes, I know it's been a really long time since I've updated this and I'm hoping to rectify that situation regularly over the next few weeks. It has been a very strange half year for me which just seems to get stranger and stranger with each passing day. I'd like to thank everyone that sent me messages wondering where the hell I've been and I'd like to say that I appreciate it more than you can all possibly know. Thanks for all the patience!! Oh, and I hope this all makes sense.

Chapter 10

"Sam…"

The huskily whispered sound of his name barely breaking the silence in the room did little to start pulling the weary, young hunter from the blissful arms of sleep that had so lovingly embraced him and started pulling him close to her breast, until he realized who the dry, raspy, and nearly inaudible voice was actually coming from. It may have been the voice that began his journey back to the waking world but it was the unusual vibrations he felt against his shoulder that really started bringing him around. The memories of the past few hours started replaying themselves in his tired mind like a bad horror movie that was most definitely not going the ways of a happy ending as it slowly drifted back into the realm of consciousness. It had been a very long, very exhausting and at times very scary night and even though the sun had barely started to rise in the late December sky as he finally started trailing off to sleep, it was a night that Sam knew was still far from over yet.

******************************************

Dean may have fallen asleep barely moments after his heavy head had landed on the feather-soft pillow his doting baby brother had laid it down on hours before but his body had had plenty of other fun-filled ideas that would keep Sam's nerves on edge for next hours to come. The water Sam had practically forced his brother to drink had decided it didn't want to be sloshing around in the stagnant heat of Dean's queasy stomach while waiting for the ok to continue its inevitable trek through his fevered body and when it realized the stomach's feelings in regards to its presence were mutual, said water that had been reluctantly swallowed in the first place had innocently started heading right back out the way it had come not long after Dean had not so much fallen asleep but passed out, kindly offering to take the remaining unwanted contents along with it as it began its steady retreat.

Sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed next to Dean, Sam hadn't taken his eyes off his brother since he had rolled onto his good side and drew his knees up nearly to his chest and what started out as a subtle clenching of Dean's stomach muscles beneath the sweat-soaked t-shirt Sam had helped him into was the exact warning the worried sibling had been waiting for to signify that the games were about to begin. Sam had had just enough time to roll his brother's limp torso off of his right side and onto his damaged left to allow his flushed face to hang over the edge of the bed and into the awaiting trash can Penny had quickly held up, the pain of taking most of his weight onto his freshly stitched wound finally eliciting some sort of reaction when a pained grunt he just couldn't suppress was bellowed out from what had turned into a near comatose state.

The grunt had been immediately followed by an off-colored stream of fluids along with nearly everything else that may have been lingering in Dean's stomach at the time, which in Sam's eyes didn't look like much more then the water he had just taken in. It was clear to Sam that his brother had neither eaten nor drank anything recently and that only seemed to fuel his fears more. Dehydration didn't need the jump start Dean had handed to it on a silver platter by denying his body the absolute necessities of life and with werewolf poison now running an undaunted course through his veins, Sam was hard-pressed to figure out just how he was going to keep his brother alive until the preternatural sickness could run its course. The starting gun had now been fired and it was off to the races.

It had only taken a few minutes for Dean's stomach to purge itself of what little contents it had held but that didn't stop it from continually trying to expel matter that just wasn't there over the next hour or so and as much as Sam wanted to get more water into his brother's increasingly weakened body, he knew by the almost violent dry heaves plaguing Dean as he tried to sleep, it just wouldn't stay in long enough to do any good. With his fever slowly and steadily climbing, Sam knew he had to do something and at nearly four in the morning, he decided he had to turn to the only person that really could help him.

"I know it's late… or early and I hate to ask you this Penny…" he hesitantly started to say as he looked into the eyes of the half-asleep woman that had taken up a spot on the bed next to Dean to wipe the fever-induced perspiration from his brow away with a cool, wet cloth. She had wanted to remove the now soaked shirt clinging to Dean's skin in order to lay cold rags across his chest but Sam just couldn't let her do that, not considering what was hidden under that saturated tee.

"Whatever you need Sam, just say it," Penny quickly responded, eager to help in any way she could.

"Do you think you can get some ice? If I can't get him to drink anything, maybe I can at least get him to suck on ice cubes," he nearly begged, not wanting to sound frantic but being unable to hide his concern.

"Sam, maybe we should just take him to the hospital. He's really sick and I think…"

"No, he'd kill me if I took him to the emergency room," Sam cut her off, knowing the emergency room wouldn't be able to treat anything but the symptoms. No, Sam had to call someone that could treat the cause. Once that was done, the symptoms would take care of themselves. "Trust me; he'd much prefer I take care of him right here."

"But…"

"Ice, please?" Sam's tone had gone from begging to downright groveling and Penny knew it was pointless to argue with him when she saw the determined look on his face.

"Alright, I'll get the ice. Anything else?"

Sam pondered the question for a moment and realized that if he sent the girl out for ice only, she'd be back before he could even pull his phone out of his pocket to make the call he intended on making to the one person he vowed he'd never speak to again. "Can you get some chewable Tylenol too? If I can't get pills into him maybe…"

"I hear yah Sam," she announced and was up off the bed and halfway out the door before Sam could finish verbalizing the thought. "Grape or cherry?"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled back. He honestly didn't think traditional medication would work but it was well worth the try, especially when he considered the fact that his call might not be readily answered.

"I'll be back as fast as I can," Penny called back as she closed the door gently behind her, mumbling something about Sam not looking all that well either and bringing breakfast back with her as she went.

With the eagerly helpful woman temporarily out of the way, Sam opened his phone and started to dial the number he had tried so hard to forget, only to close it again after the first few numbers he had keyed in. Caller ID was a blessing but it could also be a curse and he knew the second his name flashed across the intended recipient's screen, the call would probably just be ignored. He knew that because he would probably do exactly the same. If the topic of conversation was that important, the person placing the unlikely call would just have to leave a message and hope the call was returned. He also knew that while his own number would be easily ignored, Dean's number would probably be answered immediately with an overly authoritative tone and a healthy amount of anger demanding to know where he was and what the hell was doing.

Sam hated the idea of disturbing Dean now that his stomach had finally calmed and he seemed to be sleeping relatively soundly when a search of not only his brother's duffel bag but his coat and pants pockets yielded nothing but loose change and age old lint but he really didn't have any other choice. "Dean, can you hear me?" He asked as he gave him a little nudge with the tip of his finger.

"Huh?" Was the partially muttered response he gave indicating that he could.

"Dean, I need your phone, where is it?" Sam asked him in an overly beseeching tone.

"My bag?" Dean slurred his response in more of a question than an answer and tried lifting his arm to point in the direction he thought the bag to be but gave up when he couldn't raise any more than a finger off the bed.

"No it's not. It's not in your coat either," Sam continued to question, giving his brother another quick poke when it looked like he had already fallen back to sleep. "Think Dean, where did you leave it?'

"Car… maybe… why?" As sick as he was, Dean could clearly hear the urgency in his little brother's voice and not liking the sound of it, turned his head a bit in Sam's direction but failed in his attempt to open his eyes to look at him. The failed effort did not go unnoticed by the younger man either.

"You need help Dean and I can't give you the help you need. I have to call Dad…"

"No. No Dad," the words were emphatic and they were spoken with a clarity that surprised Sam and even angered him a bit.

"What's it been, a little over 24 hours since that thing gouged you and you already can't move? Lack of muscle control is usually one of the last things that happens Dean, not one of the first. Even if I call Dad now it'll take him half a day to get here from Utah and by then you might be…"

"I can move. See," Dean forced one eye open that he tried desperately to focus on his brother with and with nearly every ounce of strength he had in him, balled his hand into a fist and gave his sibling a feeble punch in the thigh. The action did little to help his cause and judging by the stiff lack of reaction he got from Sam, Dean knew it too. "Sammy, please… don't call him. I'll be ok, I just need some sleep."

"You'll be ok if you can just sleep? Do you even realize that you have a temperature of 103 and you stopped sweating a half hour ago? You know what that means don't you?"

"Means I need some water, little brother," Dean tried to jokingly shrug off what Sam was saying which only irritated the younger man more than he already was.

"Hmm, right. Did I forget to mention that you finally stopped trying to throw up your internal organs not too long ago too? You really think you can stomach some water?"

"Ahh Sam, funny pun. Stomach… water," Dean's continued aloofness at his own condition was clearly frustrating Sam and Sam had had enough of his brother's games.

"What the hell is going on between you and Dad that you'd rather die before you let me call him? It's not like you haven't had to nurse him through a night or two after a botched hunt," Sam demanded. Dean's refusal at reaching out to their father for help was not unusual but at the point he was at now, it was beginning to border on suicidal. "Unless you can give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't call him…"

"Because I'm your brother and I asked you not to," Dean flatly stated; the slight hint of humor in his tone totally absent now and replaced with a tinge of what Sam thought to be fear.

"Sorry Dean, you'll have to do better than that. Unless you can give me a valid reason for not calling Dad, the last person on the face of the planet that I ever really want to talk to again, I'm picking up that phone and I'll call him over and over until he finally answers."

"No you're not, Sam. Dad's on a hunt… an important hunt and you can't distract him, not with this."

"Damn it Dean, why not? What hunt could be more important than saving his own son's life?"

"Come on Sammy. Don't you think you're overreacting a little there?"

"No, I don't. Do you remember when Dad got ripped up by that werewolf back when we were kids and he was shaking so bad when he got back to the motel that he spilled what little holy water he had all over the floor before he could even use it?" Sam paused in his questions just long enough to acknowledge the slight nod Dean gave him before continuing, needing to know that his point was going to be taken as he tried to make it. "Do you remember him immediately calling Caleb and how sick he got before Caleb finally got there and brewed up that nasty concoction of wolfsbane and whatever else that crap was that smelled like shit and probably tasted even worse? Do you remember how quickly he recovered after he drank that potion?"

"Yeah, I remember. What're yah getting at?"

"You passed that point hours ago, that point Dad was at back then, but you already know that, don't you?" Sam said with a heavy sigh as a light bulb lit up in his head. "If you won't let me call Dad, at least let me call Caleb. Even if he can't come, he can maybe tell me what to do and I can make it myself."

"No he can't Sammy. That shit is poisonous and if you don't brew it just right… well, that'll leave you as an only child," Dean forced the words out through heavy, rapid breaths. "Besides, Caleb's with Dad. You call him and Dad'll find out I screwed this up again."

"Is that what you think? You think you screwed this up? Last time I checked there was one less werewolf terrorizing the world because you took it out, Dean. That doesn't sound like a screw up to me."

"I should have been more careful Sammy…" Dean's words were more and more slurred as they came from his lips and it was clear that he was fighting with all the strength he had just to stay awake. "I shouldn't have let my guard down after I shot him… if I had been paying attention, I probably would have seen her…"

"Wait a second… what did you just say?" Sam couldn't hide the shock in his exclamation when he processed what he thought he was hearing come out in his brother's fevered confession and as the realization hit him, he started nervously pacing the room as he mulled over what Dean had just let slip out over and over in his mind. "When you said you had to burn the bodies you didn't just misspeak, did you? There was more than one of them, wasn't there?"

"Maybe…" Dean mumbled and it was all the answer Sam needed.

"Damn it Dean, why did you go after a pair of werewolves by yourself? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Sam, please…" the older man whispered in an emotionally pained tone before continuing in a physically pained voice instead. "I didn't know there were two of them, I swear. If I had, I wouldn't have…"

"You're full of shit Dean. You would have gone after them both anyway to appease Dad and we both know it, you just would have been more careful when you did."

"… and that's why you can't call Dad. Dad can't know I royally fucked up again Sammy… he just can't."

"Fine, I won't call Dad but you are going to do everything I tell you to without complaining or I just drag your ass to the ER and let them deal with you... and you're gonna tell me exactly what happened yesterday."

"Do whatever you need to do little brother, as long as it doesn't involve Dad. I'll tell you the whole story later… I'm too tired right now to even think," Dean muttered from a barely conscious state now that the threat of their father being summoned had been quashed, the anxiety it created being what he had been using to keep himself somewhat coherent.

With the conversation clearly over for the moment and his own body on the brink of physical exhaustion, Sam took up a spot on the floor next to the bed with his back against the wall and rested his head against the mattress awaiting Penny's return with the much needed ice. The heavy, rapid breathing that had been coming from Dean while they spoke had calmed to a steadier, even sound and as Sam listened to the rhythmic inhaling and exhaling he found that he too was ready to fall into a deep sleep. The last thing Sam remembered hearing was the light snore that started coming from Dean until he heard his own name in his brother's voice and the last few hours came back to haunt him with a vengeance.

"Sam…" he heard his name but wasn't sure he was really hearing his name as much as he wasn't sure that the memories that had just played out in his head of his deathly ill brother were real or just a bad dream. The voice calling his name may not have been real, but the subtle shaking he felt against his side was and for the briefest of moments Sam was sure it must have been an small earthquake, until he heard the voice again and his tired mind realized that it wasn't an echo from his nightmare but his brother actually calling his name.

"Sammy… where are you?" Dean asked again, almost sounding confused.

"I'm right here Dean," the overly exhausted younger sibling quickly responded as he rubbed at his heavily bagged eyes with balled up fists that left his vision a total blur temporarily. He knew his head was mere inches from Dean's and what he heard next struck a chord of sheer terror in Sam's heart when his sight finally refocused and caught a glimpse of the wide eyes and haggard face directly in front of his own.

"Where? I can't see Sam… help me…" the words came out in harsh pants but were quickly cut off after the first few when the shaking increased steadily with each passing second and by the time Sam realized it was not an earthquake vibrating the entire bed but his brother's trembling that had suddenly escalated into violent convulsions, Dean was in the throes of a full blown seizure.

Sam couldn't move or breathe as he stood there helplessly watching his brother's body painfully contort in unnatural directions before finally going deathly still and the only thing that seemed to register with him was the dark spot staining the lower half of the t-shirt and the boxers covering Dean's body, the dark spot that spread out little by little the longer he stood there almost mesmerized by it. He had no idea how long he motionlessly stood gazing at the body on the bed that he was sure had given up its last bits of life with the final few jerking movements until Dean actually started coughing, coughing that indicated his brother was still alive. On wobbly legs, Sam dropped down onto the bed next to his brother and carefully lifted the shirt covering the wound that had started the entire ordeal and found himself in shock once again when he spied how oddly colored the bandages underneath had become and the foul odor the wound was producing. Dad may be out of the question but the ER was looking to be very much a reality now that Sam knew he couldn't handle what was being thrown at him by himself. Within a few short minutes he had his older brother wrapped in a blanket in the backseat of the Impala and as he picked up and played with Dean's phone that had indeed been resting on the passenger's seat, he debated between driving to the hospital and driving to Salt Lake City.


End file.
